


Ahsoka Moves In

by jairyn



Series: Shili/Togruta [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Anisoka, F/M, Force Bond, Fulcrum, Mustafar, Shili, Star Wars - Freeform, Traditions, vadful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-07-25 03:40:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16189319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jairyn/pseuds/jairyn
Summary: I present to you the one thing I ship harder than Anakin and Ahsoka… Vader and Fulcrum (which my friend and I refer to as VadFul). Before you say it, yes, I realize it is exactly the same people, but we call it something different to denote the era with which they’re paired. I won’t go into it here in the summary why I love this version more, but feel free to ask if you’re curious (be prepared for a long, passionate response if you do).Ahsoka discovers her former lover and master is still alive after believing he died at the end of the war, so she gathers their daughter and moves to Mustafar to be with him again. He stands for everything she is fighting against, and she works for the very rebellion he’s tasked to squash out. But at the end of the day, they love each other, and they want to be together. Their lives are odd to say the least, but they’re trying to make it work.This is unofficially another Rey Theory variant, but also a continuation of Traditions assuming that many of the events of RotS happened anyways.





	1. The Meaning of Home

**Author's Note:**

> So, when I first started writing Traditions, it was my intention for it to fit into the canon story and that anything later would still happen as we know it did and that someday when I continued it on, it would be something like this. But then I threw Cabin Fever into the mix and suggested that perhaps they made it work and everything turned out better for it. Even so, I still think the Chancellor could have influenced a lot of things and maybe his fall wouldn’t have been about Padmé but could still happen with Ahsoka. So, this story is assuming that the chancellor still found a way to manipulate Anakin. 
> 
> I have no idea how long this will be, so I will probably be adding onto it as it strikes my fancy.
> 
> I recently started drawing/painting/making art other than writing (which is some of why my updates have been slower), but I spent a week making this picture to go with this story. A higher resolution version can be found on: swfanficbyjz.tumblr.com

[Picture ->](https://imgur.com/a/K9nCuYt)  


 

            “Remind me to thank your uncle Rex sometime,” Ahsoka said to Ashla as they flew past the blockade without any trouble. “I’m glad those clearance codes were good. Now the hardest part is behind us.”

            “The hardest part?” Ashla asked in confusion. “You really think Dad is just going to let us move in?”

            “Of course he is,” she replied, starting the landing sequence. “He owes me.” She stared out the transparisteel glass as the dark fortress came into view. She felt the tension mounting in her veins as they neared the platform. Anakin had been alive this whole time; _fourteen years_... She’d mourned him a million times; she’d hurt and cried and been broken over him. Only to find out that he’d turned into something else entirely.  Well... fine. If this was his choice in life, she wasn’t here to argue. But she _was_ tired of running, and tired of hiding. And tired of being without him.

            So here they were. She’d gathered up their daughter, packed her ship full of supplies and memories of Shili, and moved across the galaxy. Whatever he’d become, she still loved him. So, it was time to come home. The irony being, Ashla would probably be safer here on Mustafar than anywhere else. Mainly because Anakin wouldn’t dare hurt her unless he wanted to stop breathing altogether. The trick would be keeping her a secret from the Emperor and the other imperials. 

            She landed the ship on the platform and let down the loading ramp. “Okay, love,” she said as they headed into the cargo hold. “Take the most important crates for your room first, we’ll get the rest later.”

            “Don’t you think we ought to make sure it’s safe first?” her daughter asked nervously. Up until they came out of hyperspace here, Ashla had been talking nonstop about how excited she was to meet her father. Now, she looked like a nervous wreck. 

            She looked up at the foreboding and intimidating building in front of her. She didn’t blame her though. This place hurt. She barely had to close her eyes to hear the echoes of horror that whispered through the force, weighing you down as it draped you in fear. She’d felt it before they’d even passed Tarkin’s fleet. 

            “Knowing your father, he’d be too arrogant to have lots of security; believing the blockade would hold off anyone stupid enough to attack,” she muttered. 

            “Security wasn’t what I was worried about...” Ashla trailed off. 

            “Don’t worry your pretty head,” she replied hugging her daughter tightly to her. “You let me handle your father first. Right now, we have to walk in there and act like we belong here. You ready?”

            “I guess so,” Ashla said nervously.

            “Chin up.” Her daughter took a deep breath and tipped her head back. “Good girl.” She patted her back. “No matter what happened, your father is still in there. And we’re going to bring him out. Kicking and screaming if we have to, but he’ll come out.”

            They turned on the repulser lifts for the four crates they decided to take in first. It had taken a lot of prep and planning to figure out what they’d need to bring. From everything she’d learned about this Darth Vader, despite it being a castle, it was as bare as a prison. In her opinion, it probably  _was_  a prison for him. A huge, dark, empty prison full of anger, hatred and pain. That had been the reason they’d made a detour to Shili first.

            He’d loved it there, all those years ago. So, if she couldn’t take him there, she was going to bring Shili here. She was going to remind him of color, life and comfort. She was going to help him remember who he was and what really mattered. The vision they’d shared in that cave, it had come true anyways. Despite their best efforts, the leaf had burned and left her singed. And maybe it hadn’t really mattered then, that they’d gotten married. Maybe he’d left her with a child, when she thought he’d died. Maybe everything happened as it had been foreseen, but that didn’t change who he was to her. It didn’t change the trauma and torture he’d endured. And it certainly didn’t change her belief that he deserved love. 

            The door opened when she pressed the button. As she’d expected they met no resistance. In the second hallway she found a servant. He’d promptly been knocked out. She’d put binders on him and stuck him in a closet for the time being. She hadn’t sensed that he could use the force, in fact he’d gone down with no fight whatsoever. Odd, but oh well. 

            After crossing a bridge with a circular platform in the center, that was suspended over a sheer drop into the molten lava below, she found the main door. It opened into what looked a bit like a throne room, so he could hold court over empty space she supposed. Off to the side was a door that went into a circular room with a large bacta tank in the middle. Other than it, the hoses and equipment for it, the room was empty. She tried to keep her cool when she saw him floating there, but it was difficult. She could feel his pain from where she was still standing in the doorway. The glass was thick and the liquid a bright blue, so it obscured much of what she was seeing. It was obvious though, he was missing all four limbs. His suit sat off to the side, prepped and ready for him to put on in a moment’s notice. Though she suspected it took more than a moment to get him into it.

            She felt Ashla tense next to her and she put her arm around her. “Come on, let’s find you a room.”

            “He looks so...  _sad_...” her daughter whispered. 

            “We’re about to change that,” she replied, nodding absentmindedly. Sad barely began to describe him, but Ashla was right; if someone could float sadly, he definitely was. Well, whatever happened, she was here now, and she was going to take care of him. She’d have been here sooner if she’d known. Screw the war, the Empire, the imperials, all of it. Whatever side they were both on didn’t matter inside these walls. And maybe that was as far from being a Jedi as she could get without becoming like him, but honestly, she didn’t care anymore. She was tired of trying to define her life and her connection to the force. She was good, she did good things. Who cares what ideology she followed? And she was going to do good things here too. He just didn’t know it yet. She wasn’t here to judge, even if she didn’t want to know the choices he’d made that had brought him here.

            She pointed towards a door on the far side of the room and her and Ashla moved towards it. If he sensed her presence, he hadn’t reacted to it just yet. For all she knew, he was probably asleep. Vader was dependent on the suit he wore to survive, so it stood to reason the only way to really sleep was in the bacta tank. She was going to change that too if she got a chance. Supposedly, according to some intel she’d gotten, he had what they called hermetically sealed chambers. One on Tarkin’s flagship and one in his castle. These chambers made it possible for him to take off his suit while not in the bacta tank. Or so she understood. They simply sounded like slightly larger suits. It was as though he lived in three different prisons; his suit, the hermetically sealed chambers and then the castle itself. The suit was his most mobile prison, but a prison just the same. 

            Past the room with the bacta tank was a hallway with several rooms off it. The layout of the fortress was relatively simple. It seemed that everything that made it so tall and imposing was just empty space. The inner sanctum across the bridge was very small and sparse with few rooms. So, the servant must have lived in the section before the bridge that they hadn’t explored yet. The floor plan wasn’t ideal, but they’d find a way to make it work.

            The first door they came to was heavy and thick. It opened into a tiny closet sized space and then another door like it. This must be either a vault or the entrance to the air chamber. Twin airlocks to allow the servant to go in and out without him having to get suited up every time. At least that would make things easier for her to stay in the same room with him. They left the crates in the hallway and went through the first door, waited as the air shifted and then went through the second door. 

            Like the rest of the castle, it was sparse. One chair off to the side, a few thread bare rugs and minimal decorations. In fact, they probably weren’t decorations, since she could feel the darkness emanating from them. _Sith artifacts_ … No bed though, so he only used it as a meditation chamber. It wasn’t her bedroom of choice, but she could make it work. She was suddenly glad her parents had sent her off with a pile of furs and blankets like they’d slept on before. That would do until she could get a real bed in here somehow. 

            It was becoming increasingly obvious that the Emperor did not spend any credits or effort on making him comfortable. It was probably something stupid like Sith had to suffer in order to be powerful. _Maybe. Maybe not_. He’d been powerful as a Jedi too. Of course, he’d had suffering then as well, so what did she know? She wasn’t going to judge, right now, she just wanted to be with him again. Someday, maybe she’d help him overcome this. Maybe someday she’d free him from all these prisons. But until that day could come, she was going to make it less awful. Which hopefully didn’t undermine him enough to make Palpatine suspect anything. She didn’t think it would since he’d been powerful with her there before. More powerful, if she were to be honest.

            “I don’t like this room,” Ashla said suddenly. “It’s so oppressive.”

            “Yeah it is,” she replied. “I’m going to fix that too.”

            Ashla looked up at her. “You seem certain you’re going to fix everything for him.”

            “I _am_ certain, love,” she replied pulling her daughter into her arms. “Your father and I have been through a lot over the years, but at the end of the day, we still love each other. We’re going to make this work. Some way or another, we will.”

            “You don’t think fourteen years would change that?” she asked. “I mean, he was alive this whole time and he never reached out to you.”

            “I know…” Ahsoka said with a sigh. “He might not have known I survived the Jedi purge. Palpatine saw me as a threat to everything he was trying to do, even if  _he_  knew I was alive, I doubt he told Anakin.”

            “I hope you’re right,” Ashla replied softly. 

            They left the chamber and continued down the hallway. She hoped she was right too. The only thing in her life she’d ever counted on was that Anakin had loved her. Despite what happened, she couldn’t believe that would change. And maybe she just didn’t want to believe it. Maybe she was making excuses for why he hadn’t reached out to her. But she’d spent the last fourteen years believing he was dead. It was entirely possible he’d believed the same thing about her. It wasn’t like they could find one tiny light in the darkness that had fallen. Not easily anyways. If he couldn’t find her in it and she hadn’t found him in it… They’d just been floating through life like ghosts; lost and alone. It was time to change that. 

            They passed several small storage rooms and found a larger room at the end of the hallway. It was mostly empty, but there were a few crates inside. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it had a window. It would have to make do for Ashla’s room for now. They put down the crates and moved the other stuff off to the side to clear space to set up her bed. 

            “Alright, love. I’m going to go get a couple more crates. You go ahead and unpack.”

            “Okay, mom,” Ashla said. 

            She headed back through the castle, pausing in the room he was in. She stopped in front of the tank and looked up at him, chewing on her lip. She didn’t want to think about the horrors he’d endured to end up like this, but at least he was alive. Which was so much better than what she’d believed for so long. She took a deep breath and turned to go back to the ship to get more crates. The way she felt about him hadn’t changed one bit, so she hoped that the way he’d felt about her still lived inside that broken body and soul somewhere. And she also hoped she wasn’t making a horrible mistake bringing Ashla here. All he’d have to do was make one call to his allies and they wouldn’t stand a chance. 

            She started up the repulser lift on another couple crates and headed back inside. Whatever clearance codes Rex had provided clearly had not alarmed the fleet in any way to come investigate who’d landed on Mustafar. That bought them time at least, to persuade Vader to let them stay and tell Tarkin something to keep them away.

 


	2. Squatters

            She sucked in a breath when she entered his room again. His eyes had snapped open and he was glaring at her. She tried to keep her cool, like she’d told her daughter; _we have to act like we belong here_. But maybe she hadn’t been as ready for his initial reaction as she thought she was. She took a deep breath and plastered her snippy smile back on her face. He watched her as she moved towards the tank. He shook angrily, helpless until someone got him out. 

            “Calm down, love,” she said as confidently as she could manage. “Let me get our daughter settled and I’ll come get you out.” His eyes widened in confusion. The anger receded a moment as he studied her. She patted the glass of the tank, smiled and continued past him. Ignoring the muffled annoyance and very possibly, threats. All she could hope was that his hostility didn’t last. Not that she liked knowing there was any hostility there to begin with.

            She dropped the crate off at her daughter’s room and leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath. She’d done the best she could to hold herself together and appear strong and confident about what they were doing for Ashla’s sake. But seeing his eyes had nearly made her tell her daughter to pack back up so they could run away. It wasn’t that she’d expected him to be instantly happy the moment he’d seen her, but she hadn’t expected hatred. Everything she’d done in her life had been for him, why would he hate her? Or was this just the Sith influence that she had to break through? Maybe that hatred wasn’t personal, it just was the default nowadays… She was so sure she  _could_  break through… she couldn’t doubt herself now. There was too much at stake.

            “Mom?” Ashla stepped out of her room and she instantly straightened, putting the smile back on her face.

            “Yes, love?”

            “Are you alright?” her daughter asked.

            “Of course,” she said, trying to radiate positivity, even if she knew Ashla could see right through her. 

            “It’s okay to say you aren’t, you know?” Ashla crossed her arms and pouted slightly. Oh she hated when she did that, because she looked like a spitting image of Anakin. 

            “I’m fine, really,” she emphasized the last word. Maybe if she believed it, Ashla would too. “Everything’s fine.”

            “Right,” her daughter murmured. “Why else would we move across the galaxy to a planet steeped in the dark side where the Emperor keeps his most volatile weapon, who just happens to be my father; oh, and he hates Jedi? But as you said, everything’s fine.” She turned and went back into her room and let the door close behind her. Ahsoka stared at it a moment and then followed her inside. 

            “You’re right,” she said softly. “Everything isn’t fine. Not right now and maybe it won’t be. But I have to believe it or else I’m going to question everything, and I can’t do that. Not right now, not after so much loss and pain. I know this isn’t ideal, but we’re going to make it work.” She sat down next to Ashla who had dropped her face in her hands. 

            “I just wish things were different,” her daughter looked up at her, tears staining her pretty face.

            “Me too,” she said, rubbing her back. “You were so excited about meeting him, what happened?” 

            “This happened.” Ashla beckoned around her at the dark room. “I felt it before we even came out of hyperspace. I want to believe as much as you do that we can reach him through all of this, but I don’t see how. What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me? What if he doesn’t love me?” 

            “Ashla,” she wiped the tears off her face. “He won’t be able to help it. He was the most loving person I’ve ever known. He was the one that taught _me_  how to love. Love doesn’t just die like that. It’s still in there somewhere. But he’s a complicated person. Despite loving so deeply, he doesn’t understand love at all and he has a hard time recognizing it even when it’s right in front of him. So maybe it will take a little while for you to see it, but he’s going to love you. He will. He loved me even when he didn’t want to. Just take a deep breath and try to relax, okay?”

            “I’ll try, mom.”

            “That’s all any of us can do.” She kissed her on the cheek. “Can I borrow your lotion?”

            “Um, sure,” Ashla replied and started rummaging through her crates. She handed the container over once she found it. 

            “Alright, you stay here and unpack. I’m going to go get your father out of the tank.” Ashla nodded nervously and went to work. But she watched her from the doorway for a moment. She was just moving things absentmindedly around, trying to distract herself. She really hoped she was right about everything she’d told her. If she’d thought she could risk it, she would have come here alone first to soften him up to the idea before bringing Ashla into the mix, but it had been too risky to try that stunt to get past the blockade more than once. So that meant now Ashla had to witness whatever was about to happen.  _Please oh please let it be okay_.

            She headed back into the med room and again he started shaking angrily. “Alright, alright,” she said. “Cool your jets, I’m right here.” She put the jar of lotion down near his suit and headed over to the controls. The lid of the tank lifted off and recessed into the ceiling. She pulled the lever to lift the harness that held him out of the tank. Once he was clear of the rim, she flushed the liquid and let it recycle itself while she went about guiding the harness towards her and bringing it down to her level, so she could start to dry him off. He watched her work with his dark and cold eyes. She tried to ignore the stare and keep reminding herself how much she loved him. Not that it was hard to remember that. Even with the way he was glaring at her, all she felt was love as she moved the towel gently across his skin, patting him dry. 

            The oxygen mask he was wearing had a tight seal around his nose and mouth so if he was trying to talk, she couldn’t make out the words. She lowered him down further, so his butt was on the floor and she leaned forward and kissed him softly on the forehead. 

            “I’ve missed you so much,” she breathed into his skin, pausing just long enough to rest her cheek on him for a moment while he was still in no position to fight her. She pulled the jar of lotion to her hand and opened it up, sitting down next to him so she could hold him against her. She went to work rubbing it into his skin, taking care around the worst of the scars. “This is special healing salve from Shili. I thought it might feel nice,” she murmured as she worked. She caressed his face softly as she rubbed it in little circles trying to ignore the pain she felt radiating off him. She was going to love him no matter how he responded to her. She was going to be gentle and tender and hopefully remind him of better times. Love was the only way to beat the hate and fear.

            He’d stopped shaking in anger, but his eyes hadn’t softened as he watched her. She suspected he’d probably fight her harder if he wasn’t dependent on her getting him back in his suit at this point. Maybe she really _was_ being foolish to think they’d fall back into their old ways. So much had changed. Maybe she  _was_  in denial. 

            “Whether you like it or not, Anakin,” she said after awhile. “I’m going to take care of you. I’m here now. You’re stuck with me. And if I’d known you were still alive, I would have been here sooner.” He mumbled something she couldn’t quite catch. “Wait until I get you back in your suit to tell me all the reasons why this won’t work, so I can actually hear you.” She continued moving her hands down to his chest, massaging in the lotion and taking care to miss the electrical components sticking out through the skin. “On second thought, I don’t want to hear why this won’t work. Only how it will.” She looked up at his face. The anger in his eyes receded just a little and she smiled at him.

            “Hey mom,” Ashla called from the doorway.

            “Yes, dear?” Anakin turned towards the voice but couldn’t see her from the way he was sitting. 

            “Have you seen my brush? I can’t find it.”

            “It might be in the bathroom crate, if that’s the last place you had it,” she replied as she continued her task. 

            “Can I go look?” Ashla asked. “All this heat is torture on my hair.”

            “Of course.” She paused to watch him as his eyes followed Ashla through the room, before he looked back at her. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll meet her soon enough, Anakin.” She smiled at him. “Crazy right? The two of us having a kid…” She stared blankly at the wall for a moment. “She’s perfect though, in every way. You’d be proud of her.” She felt tears well in her eyes and she shook herself and went back to work. She’d spent countless hours deep in meditation talking out loud about their daughter, hoping that if he was one with the force like the Jedi believed, there was still enough of him out there to hear her. Being able to actually say it to him… it brought a rush of emotions she hadn’t counted on.

            He turned again when Ashla returned. “I found it,” she said awkwardly. “Hi dad.” She waved shyly at him and then sprinted through the room. He watched her go again. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking but decided not to pry. He was going to have to figure all this stuff out for himself. It had to be a bombshell for him too. Not only seeing her here, but also that they had a child together. She’d never gotten the chance to tell him she was pregnant before everything happened. Her life had changed overnight. One minute she’d been happy and excited about the future, the next… she was being hunted like an animal, on the run from everything she’d once fought for. And worse than all of that… he’d vanished. Then the news… he’d died during the attack on the temple. She could have sworn she’d died that day too. It had taken her so long to pull herself back from that. Maybe she never completely did.  _The singed leaf_. Ashla had been her saving grace. The child he’d never gotten to know about had been the only thing keeping her moving forward. 

            It didn’t matter now. Here they were. They’d been given a second chance and she wasn’t going to waste it with anger, fear or unresolved emotions. Once she finished with the lotion she started putting his suit on. There were so many pieces, but it was pretty straightforward how it all went together. If she picked up the wrong thing, he’d shake his head and point to something else. The more she did it, the better she’d get at it, she was sure. She looked up when Ashla stopped in the doorway again. Despite her concerns, she couldn’t stay away. Now that he had his arms and legs attached, he could easily finish on his own, but he made no effort to do it and instead waited for her. 

            “At some point, love,” she said to Ashla. “I’m going to have you take a look at his suit. There’s got to be a way to improve it. This thing is clunky and complicated.”

            “Okay mom,” their daughter murmured, still staring at the back of his head. He turned to look in her direction, but she ducked into the shadows of the doorway. He glanced back at her. 

            “Come here.” She beckoned to Ashla. She watched as she took a deep breath to steady herself and then left the safety of the doorway. She wasn’t normally this shy, but she understood her fear. She stood up and helped him to his feet. She pulled Ashla over in front of him, so he could get a good look at her. “Isn’t she beautiful, Anakin?” she whispered. 

            He stared at her a long time, still wearing the oxygen mask, his entire suit on except for the top half of his helmet and the protective plate that secured it all into place. Ashla shifted nervously under his gaze. After the longest moment, he finally nodded ever so slightly. She’d watched him work through a mess of something to find the real him underneath. It wasn’t much, but it proved to her he really was still in there. She picked up the rest of his helmet and looked up at him. He was hiding his emotions well, but she could feel things shifting. It was better than she could have hoped for once she’d found out who he’d become. But maybe it wasn’t as good as she would have preferred.  _Small steps_ … He wasn’t trying to kill them. That was a good start.

            “Are you ready?” she asked him when a loud beeping went off in the corner of the room. He finally tore his eyes off of Ashla and looked back at her. He nodded and bent down. She released the oxygen mask off his face and quickly latched his helmet into place, putting down the top plate. He pressed a button on the control panel on the front of his chest and inhaled with a loud mechanical sound. The sound of his raspy breathing through the helmet was disconcerting, but at least she must have put everything on him correctly because his suit was working. He stared at them a moment longer and then headed towards the beeping. She put her arm around Ashla and guided her back towards her room. “Let’s give him some time to process everything,” she whispered to her daughter. Ashla nodded but seemed reluctant to leave. Her curiosity was beating out her fears she’d expressed earlier.


	3. New Beginnings

            She didn’t want to tell Ashla that whoever was calling would determine whether or not they could stay. Though their daughter was smart enough to figure that out on her own. She hoped what little they’d done so far would be enough. Admittedly, she had the strongest urge to eavesdrop, but knew if there was any chance at rebuilding what they’d lost, he’d need to know he could trust her still. Despite everything that had happened and despite being on opposite sides. 

            They headed back to Ashla’s room and she helped her unload the last of her crates. They hung a few tapestries and some curtains. Then they converted the crates into shelves for her miscellaneous things she’d collected over the years. Once it was feeling more homey, she headed back to the ship to get the crates for their own room. She didn’t see him when she passed through the room with the bacta tank, so she didn’t know where he’d gone. He must have gone into the other part of the castle they hadn’t explored yet because she didn’t find him on her way out to the ship either. At least he didn’t appear to be hunting them down or trying to stop them from being there. 

            It was fine for now, she supposed. As much as they had to catch up on, he also needed time to process it, like she’d told Ashla. Maybe she did too. Moving crates and unpacking was a good distraction. It allowed her to focus on something other than the doubts creeping through her. She grabbed the few for their room and headed back through the castle. This time she did run into him again. She smiled but kept moving. He stepped aside and didn’t try to stop her, but she felt his eyes follow her as she went by. The anger and hatred she’d felt initially wasn’t as obvious anymore. So, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was probably happy they were there. Or at the very least, it had probably felt good to be treated with care. She doubted his servant was tender, nor his hands nearly as enjoyable. 

            Oh, that reminded her. She dropped the crate outside the air chamber and headed back the way she’d come. “I forgot about your servant,” she muttered when she passed him again. She didn’t have to see his face to feel his confusion. This time he did follow her. She opened the closet door and the servant started wriggling with muffled comments. Vader stared at him for a moment and then glanced at her. “What? Did you really think I killed him?” The servant’s eyes widened as he stared at Anakin probably pleading him to help. “You don’t really need him anymore, but as I’m sure you know, we can’t just send him back to the Emperor unless you want him to know we’re here, so what do you want to do with him?” He used the force to pull the servant to his feet.

            She debated staying there. Part of her didn’t want to know what he was going to do with him. There weren’t a lot of options. Unless there was a way to make sure he couldn’t tell anyone they were there, the only other choices were to lock him up or kill him. Neither was desirable, and what did it mean if she turned a blind eye to that cruelty? She didn’t want to think about it, because that only meant she’d have to think about what else he could do without her trying to stop him. Was it justifiable if the long-term was bringing him back to the light? They’d killed people as Jedi too… How could anyone truly say what was right or what was wrong? Who even had a right to decide that anyways? Maybe she should have killed the servant when she’d met him in the hallway. Suddenly this felt so much worse. Not that she would have killed a defenseless person in front of her daughter. Maybe if he’d have fought back, it wouldn’t have bothered her so much. 

            He looked at her again and she tried not to cringe when he took the old man by his arm and led him away. She took a deep breath and headed back to the air chamber trying to put it out of her mind. As a Sith, Anakin was unlikely to show mercy. Which was another thing she didn’t want to think about. By the time she made it into the air chamber with the crates, that had been an ordeal trying to get them through the airlocks without squishing herself to death, she collapsed onto them and took a deep breath. 

            She was starting to feel as though she really hadn’t thought this through enough. All she’d wanted when she’d found out he was alive was to go to him. Despite the planning and the supply pickup and everything, she hadn’t thought much about what it would be like here. The air itself weighed on her and it wasn’t just this chamber. It felt like the darkness was creeping into her veins. She’d truly believed she was stronger in the light than this. An hour or two here and she already felt like she was changing. Maybe attachments really were bad…

            She numbly got to her feet and opened the first crate full of soft furs. She shook them out and stacked them a little away from the corner in the place of a bed. The colors cheered her up a bit as she slowly decorated the room a little. She had learned to travel lightly, so she hadn’t accumulated so much stuff. Ashla on the other hand was sentimental about things because for a long time that was all she had of the people she loved. She’d collected all sorts of interesting things over the years. She even still had things she’d given to her as a baby. She ignored the Sith artifacts for the time being, hoping she could either get used to them being around or not be affected by their influence. Though she had the strongest urge to drop them off that bridge into the lava below. But for the time being, she wanted to prove to him that being with him was more important than their paths in life.

            Once she emptied the crates, she sat back down on one of them and sighed. She didn’t want to doubt what she was doing, but she couldn’t help it. She’d missed him so much, she’d cried so many tears over him. When she’d found out he was still alive, her spirits had lifted tenfold, only to drop again probably even lower than they’d been before to find out what he’d become. Then to see him glaring at her as though demanding to know why she was even here. No hint of happiness or relief to see her alive… it very possibly snuffed the last of her hope out.

            She’d tried so hard to convince herself that he’d missed her. That he still loved her, no matter how deeply buried it might be. She’d been so sure that together they could beat the odds. That maybe at first, she’d have to strongarm him into letting them be here simply because they’re on opposing sides now, but eventually he’d thank her for it. Now it felt like even if he let them stay, they’d just be empty together instead of apart. As Ashla had pointed out, maybe things _had_ changed in fourteen years. Maybe their love _had_ died.

            She pulled herself together and pushed the crates off to the side, then she headed out of the air chamber.

            “Hey mom,” Ashla ran down the hall to catch up with her. She wrapped her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and kissed her on the top of her head. “Have you found a bathroom yet?”

            “I haven’t looked, but it’s probably where the servant was living,” she replied.

            “What are we going to do about him?”

            “I let your father take care of it,” she murmured.

            “Are you sure that was a good idea?”

            “No,” she admitted. “But he was standing there when I went to get him out of the closet.” She sighed. “You were right, Ashla. I don’t know what we’re doing here. I’m not sure what I was even thinking to bring us here.”

            “I do,” her daughter said. “You still love him, so you wanted to come home.” She started crying before she could stop herself. So much for putting on a strong face for Ashla’s sake, she couldn’t even hold herself together. Her daughter hugged her tightly and she held her for a few minutes while she tried to calm down.

            “You know how you said you wished things were different?” she asked once she found her voice again.

            “Yeah.”

            “I wish I’d told him I was pregnant. Maybe I never would have lost him to begin with.” _Or at least I would have known why he vanished from my life._ She didn’t say the last part out loud. She didn’t dare make Ashla think she might have been the deciding factor. Anakin had never really liked kids, taking her on had already been more than he’d wanted to begin with. Being a father? Nothing he’d ever expressed interest in. But whether he wanted to be one or not, he _was_ one now. And even if it slowly killed her staying here, she was going to give Ashla a chance to have him in her life. After everything they’d suffered together, she deserved that much.

            “You know what?” Ashla said suddenly after silence had fallen between them for awhile. “I’m really hungry. Let’s go cook. Good food always cheers us up.”

            “Good idea, love,” she said, glad her parents had stocked them up with frozen meat, vegetables and plenty of spices. She couldn’t wait to dive in. She wasn’t great at cooking herself, she was better at hunting, but Ashla had taken to it just like Anakin had. Just the thought of smelling roasting meat and spices raised her mood considerably. “The good news is, even if we can’t find an oven, I imagine we could roast something over a lava pit.”

            Ashla started laughing. “Who needs a campfire?” They headed back to the ship and uncovered the crates with all the frozen food her family had sent with them. She didn’t know where Anakin had gone, but at the moment she didn’t really care.

            “We should probably leave the crates here in the ship for now, they might get too hot inside. So let’s just pick out the ingredients we need for dinner.”

            “Okay, mom,” Ashla murmured as she opened one of them and pulled out some spices and vegetables. “Nuna, nexu or mawvor?”

            “Choices, choices…” she said thoughtfully. “I don’t know, what are you hungry for?”

            Ashla looked over the vegetables and spices she was holding. “Mawvor. The meat is tougher, but I think it will taste better with this combination.”

            “You’re the chef.” She patted her on the back and pulled out a flank of mawvor, then she sealed the crate again, so it stayed cold. “We should make your father cook. After all, the women are the providers.”

            “If he has to wear that suit to survive, I doubt he’ll be able to take it off to eat. So making him cook things he can’t eat doesn’t sound very nice,” Ashla said after a moment.

            “Yeah, you’re right,” she replied. “I don’t know where he went anyways. He’s probably hiding from us.”

            “Well, we did come in like a whirlwind.”

            “We did,” Ahsoka laughed. “He should be used to that with me by now.”

            “You guys must have had the weirdest relationship,” Ashla muttered as they headed back down the ramp into the fortress.

            “You can say that again.” She rolled her eyes. Weird or not though, it had been good while it lasted. Hopefully they could get it back. She brushed the tear out of her eye and focused back on dinner.


	4. Remember Me

            He sat down on his throne, as Sidious called it, and stared blankly at the far wall. From the moment he’d seen her standing there, he’d wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms. The shock of seeing her alive had sent ripples of pain through him. At first, he’d thought he was dreaming. He was often overwhelmed by dreams and memories in the bacta tank; when he was meditating. The force was especially cruel to him then. It loved to show him all the things he’d lost. 

            But this dream was still going. He didn’t know what to think, or even if he dared hope he’d never wake up to the cruel reality where she didn’t exist anymore. For so long, he’d believed her dead. He’d mourned her. Losing her had been his greatest source of suffering. And it was the one Sidious loved to grind into his skin like a sharp knife the most. 

            Then out of nowhere, she walked back into his life. Carrying herself like she’d never been gone. Like the last fourteen years of pain, sorrow and emptiness had never happened. That was Ahsoka alright; she’d never let anyone believe she didn’t know what she was doing. She’d waltzed in like she owned the place. Like she’d lived here the whole time and he’d simply not noticed. And she’d almost convinced him that was exactly what was happening. At least until she fell apart, questioning why she’d come. And her daughter had said something that had wrenched his insides into knots; _you still loved him, and you wanted to come home_.

 _Their_ daughter. That was probably the most shocking part of this whole dream. If anything should have been the wake-up pinch, it should have been that. Not only had Ahsoka vanished, she’d been pregnant when she had. He had a teenage daughter he hadn’t even known about. Had Sidious known Ahsoka was alive? If so, had he known about their child? 

            He certainly hadn’t known she was alive. And Ahsoka had said herself, if she’d known he was, she’d have been here sooner. So how could Sidious keep them both in the dark about the other? And why had it never occurred to him that Ahsoka could still be out there? She was a survivor, after all. _What a dumb question_. It had never occurred to him because he’d had no reason to doubt his new master. He’d sealed his fate the moment he found out he’d lost her. It was the ultimate trap and he’d fallen right into it. 

            When he’d been told she’d been killed, he’d lost the will to live. He’d died that day too. Not a physical death really, though it might as well have been one considering the outcome. Ahsoka was his heart. Once she was gone, so was it. After that, nothing else had mattered. He no longer cared about anything; the war, the side he was on, who ordered him around or even what he fought for. He was just a void with bones and skin. An empty shell full, not of organs, but of anger, hatred, and suffering. And Sidious had decided that made him the perfect weapon for his new Empire. _Fine, whatever_. He’d go wherever he was pointed. Why fight it? Dying was out of the question, though he’d begged for it every chance he’d gotten, Sidious wouldn’t let him die. 

            He sat forward, unsure of what had captured his attention. He was still alone in the room. He wasn’t sure where they’d gone. Part of him wanted to track them down and not let either of them out of his sight, but the other part feared he really was hallucinating, and he’d scour the castle only to find nothing. 

            He got up and headed towards the back rooms where he’d seen Ahsoka take all those crates. He opened the door to the farthest room, expecting it to be empty. But instead there was a burst of color. It seemed so unreal in the darkness of this building. A bed had been constructed in the corner, made with furs and colorful pillows and blankets. Intricate tapestries hung from the walls, depicting familiar scenes of the hunt or the celebration of life. Thin but wild patterned curtains hung over the window. You could almost forget about the horrible lava world outside. Four crates had been turned on their sides, stacked like shelves holding interesting things. He hesitated for a moment but went inside. He scanned the items absentmindedly, unsure of their significance. But then his eyes rested on a small doll. 

            He picked it up and stared at it. It was simple, but well made. By the craftsmanship, he was almost certain Ahsoka had made it herself. But beyond the craftsmanship, it wore Jedi robes, it had wavy golden-brown hair and a scar embroidered down its right eye. She’d made her daughter a doll of him. _Their daughter_ _,_ he reminded himself. He set it down and left the room. Or rather, she’d made their daughter a doll of who he used to be. Was he still that person?

            This was definitely the weirdest, most involved vision he’d ever had. None of this was real, it couldn’t be. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t hope for it. He was still floating in the bacta tank, deep in the dark side and suffering. He was still lonely and cold, and the horrible monster he’d become. This was all just another form of torture he’d somehow have to learn to endure. Even if there was a small chance Ahsoka was still alive, why would she come here? How could she love or want this? She wouldn’t. It was as simple as that. 

            He made his way to the bacta tank, looking it over half expecting to see himself still floating there. Everything was in place. He checked the controls. Nothing was out of the ordinary. His eyes landed on the jar of lotion she’d rubbed so tenderly into his skin. He picked it up and studied it. He couldn’t smell through the suit, but he could imagine the way it had smelled. It was probably a sweet, citrusy smell. Warm and soft like the sun. He couldn’t forget that smell, because that was the way _she_ had smelled. Not that there was any hope he’d ever be able to smell it again. Even out of the suit, he had to wear a mask over his nose and mouth. 

            He set down the jar and tried to take a deep breath. This dream had turned from wonderful though confusing, to wicked and torturous real fast. He’d rather wake up and forget about it than be forced to explore and remember every detail of the life he’d lost. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t come out of the heavy sleep he’d fallen into. She lived in the air around him, in the suit, in his blood. Frustrated but tired of pacing, he followed the feeling to look for her.

            He found them in his servant’s quarters, talking animatedly with each other about something. He stood outside the door and listened for a few minutes. Ahsoka sounded exactly the same, except her voice was deeper and softer. The way she talked to their daughter though; it was so sweet. She’d always been good with kids. From their first mission together and her surprising love and compassion for a baby Hutt that he thought was disgusting, to all the times she helped out with the younglings and even the gathering. Ahsoka being a mother wasn’t shocking in the least. Him being a father on the other hand, was worrisome and probably wouldn’t go well at all. 

            He thought about the way she’d spoken about the girl when she’d been helping him into his suit. The rush of emotion, the pride, the almost disbelief that something so wonderful could have come from them. In fact, he questioned that too. How could something wonderful come from him? From Ahsoka, easy. From him, not so much. So, he couldn’t really blame her for sounding that way. He had to admit his imagination was getting wilder as this dream wore on. He’d never had one so detailed before. And definitely never one about them having a child. That was new. He had no clue what any of it meant, or why the force had suddenly changed the way it tortured him. It was just outlandish enough it _could_ be real. And the temptation to give in was getting harder and harder to fight; especially as he stood there listening to her voice. 

            He sighed. Who cares if he was delusional? He couldn’t stand it anymore. Not even Tarkin’s call had snapped him out of this dream. Their conversation died as soon as he opened the door. They sat there at the table like nothing about this was odd. He looked between them, his eyes lingering on their daughter and then back to Ahsoka. She looked so different and yet so much like he remembered. Her head had grown considerably; her headtails nearing her waist. She’d filled out nicely, her face narrower and more mature. She was still just as beautiful as she’d always been, but it was in a more sophisticated way now. 

            “Hi Dad!” the girl said, and he looked back at her. Her features were more like Ahsoka’s, but her eyes could have been his. Maybe even her chin too. She had long wavy golden hair, that went down past her shoulders. Her skin was fair, maybe a shade or two darker than his had been and she had very light white markings on her face; what looked like an inverted version of Ahsoka’s headband across her forehead, two small curved marks underneath the outer edge of each eye and then a faint stripe that went from her bottom lip down to her chin. She was definitely beautiful, as Ahsoka had said, but still a little gangly and disproportionate as she had yet to grow into her height. In fact, even being human she could have been a spitting image of Ahsoka when he’d first met her. Though he did see himself in her too. Maybe not in personality as much as looks, but then again, he’d had very few moments face to face with her and she seemed somewhat shy. So, he didn’t really have an idea what kind of personality she had yet. “If you’d like, I could put some of this in the food processor and put it in your suit, so you could have some.”

            He stared at her a moment longer and then glanced back at Ahsoka. She had a faint, but somewhat sad smile on her lips, but was watching their daughter with pride. He nodded, deciding if this was a dream he didn’t want to wake up. As weird as it was, he liked it and whatever happened couldn’t really cause problems because he was really still in the bacta tank. He sat down as the girl got up and dished up a plate of the food they’d made, then ran it through the blender. He set his hand on the table not really sure how this would work, but their daughter seemed so sure she could feed it to him. Whatever it was had to taste better than the vitapaste he’d been living on for so long; the nasty stuff that barely even qualified as food but had all the nutrients needed to sustain life.

            Ahsoka reached over and set her hand over his. Even though he couldn’t feel it physically, it still felt nice. She smiled at him softly. He wanted so badly to give in completely. To hold her tight, to believe this was real, but every time he thought that, fear caused him to freeze. Fear that he’d end up hugging air and empty space instead. Fear that if he closed his eyes, she’d vanish again. Fear that when the dream ended, he’d be haunted by it forever.

            The girl came over and he looked up at her as she paused near his right side. She got a faraway look in her bright blue eyes for a moment, waving her hand through the air. He felt the force shift around her and he watched her curiously. Whatever she was doing, she wasn’t prying into his mind like he expected, but he could still feel her searching around him as though she were looking for something in particular. It was an odd sensation that felt a little like tiny pinpricks across his skin. After a moment she refocused and gave a shy smile. Then to his surprise, her hands went straight to the feeding tube in the jaw of his helmet. She traced her fingers back beneath the plate where the vitapaste was forced in, so that he could press a button and push a serving into his mouth whenever he was ready to eat.

            He heard the seal pop and then she seemed to use the force to pull out the remains of the vitapaste. Thankfully there wasn’t much left in there as he hadn’t refilled it yet today. He sat still as she started pushing the other food that she’d also made into paste, into his suit. After a few minutes of hard work, she closed the seal and nodded to him. He took a deep breath and then pushed a button on his chest, forcing some of it into his mouth. He could have cried it tasted so good. Either that or he’d completely forgotten the taste of anything else. It felt strange the way they both watched him, but he was in no hurry to swallow, savoring the flavor and texture as long as he possibly could. With the damage to his trachea, he had to be careful swallowing anyways. But since he hated the taste of the vitapaste, he’d often force it down too early and made himself cough and struggle to breathe for awhile.

            The first bite had been a little sour, still contaminated by the remains of the paste, but the second one had been the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, and he was instantly transported back to their time on Shili and the smells of good food. “Thank you,” he said finally, trying not to get emotional over food.

            The girl’s whole face lit up, a sparkle in her eyes. “You’re welcome!” she said happily and sat back down opposite of him. Ahsoka patted her softly on the shoulder and she flashed her a smile too.

            “How did you know how to put it in my suit?” he asked after another bite, suddenly curious about this girl.

            “Um,” she started a little nervously. “I can feel the way machines work in the force and know how to fix them or upgrade them. When I concentrate, I can see all the individual pieces and how they come together. I can also find where they’re broken or where they can be improved. Sometimes even bypassing current mechanisms that are unnecessary.”

            “She’s a brilliant mechanic,” Ahsoka said with pride. “I think she’d rival even you, Anakin.”

            “Mom says I get it from you,” the girl said. “That you liked to meditate by working on things and tinkering. I do that too.” He studied her face. Now Ahsoka telling her to look at his suit made a lot more sense. If it were possible to upgrade it and make it less uncomfortable, he’d be glad to try it. Not that he imagined there was much she could do. He’d spent any time he could trying to circumvent some of the especially painful parts Sidious had put into it. Over the years he’d made small minor improvements to it, but too much of it was necessary to survive and there wasn’t much he’d been able to do. Besides, why was he even considering this? It was still just a dream.

            If Ahsoka had been pregnant when she disappeared, this girl must be about thirteen. “What is your name?”

            “Ashla,” she said.

            “Ashla,” he repeated. In Togruti, that meant ‘light.’ The words the elder had spoken during their accidental wedding drifted back into his head, _Ashla lives in you both_. He wondered if that’s why Ahsoka had named her such. He didn’t know this girl at all, but she definitely radiated light, like her namesake. In fact, she reminded him so heavily of the golden feeling he’d left Shili with all those years ago. The way Ahsoka had always made him feel. Maybe that’s why this vision brought him a child. She could have been an embodiment of everything he’d lost for all he knew. It was like he was staring at the part of himself that had once been inside him. She was so pure and perfect and loving. How was that even possible?

            Maybe the force was trying to show him that part of himself wasn’t really dead like he’d believed. Was it possible to become whole once again?

            He stood up feeling overwhelmed. Tears welled in his eyes and he tried to blink them away. Which then made his helmet head’s up display blink through all his settings and he sighed in frustration. This was too much. He had to wake up. If he gave in, the torture would surely destroy his sanity completely.

            “You should take some of that food down to the dungeon. Vaneé is probably hungry.” He turned on his heels and left the room, feeling stupid. Could Sidious be testing him somehow? Maybe it wasn’t a dream at all, but a trick of the force? It must be. It would explain why he couldn’t wake up no matter how hard he tried. Sidious was trying to find his weakness, so he knew where to stab the knife next. He didn’t know how his master had learned about the things that had happened on Shili though. He didn’t know how he could make it so convincing and yet so unrealistic. He had half a mind to call Tarkin, expecting the Moff to tell him no ships had come through the blockade. It was all his imagination. All in his head.

            He paced the fortress for awhile in misery. What was he supposed to prove to Sidious? That he would kill her if she reappeared in his life? That his loyalty was to him and him alone? That not even the lure of a family would break him or tear him from his purpose within the Empire? He went over to the control panel in his med room and pulled the lever, disappearing down the spiral stairs into his private sanctum. Well, it wasn’t really a sanctum so much as the only space in the castle his servant didn’t know about. The first chamber held the holotable where he spoke with Sidious whenever he called. The second was where he kept all the things he’d secretly collected over the years. He went inside and slammed the button for it to shut behind him.

            He sat down hard on the chair and stared at the wall. The feeling of her hadn’t made its way down here yet. In this room he could believe everything was as it always was; dark and cold. Then he turned his head and saw the stand that held her lightsabers and her padawan beads. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back. Why had he kept them? Why had he snatched them out from under the Empire’s troops when they’d sacked the Jedi temple looking for artifacts? The lightsabers had been found in a shallow grave on Mandalore by a few remaining clones. They’d been brought back to the temple and thrown into a pile with the other lightsabers they’d collected from all the dead Jedi across the galaxy. The moment he’d seen them, he’d stolen them, kyber crystals and all. He’d retrieved her padawan beads from his room and he’d hidden them away.

            He’d kept them because they were all he’d had left of her after finding out Rex had killed her when the Emperor had initiated Order Sixty-Six. He shook himself, unable to relive that day again. He’d already relived it far too many times. He had half a mind to take them and throw them into the lava. Maybe the test Sidious had put forth was an opportunity to purge himself completely of who he’d once been. It was time to kill Anakin once and for all.

            He went back up the stairs and into the servant’s quarters. They weren’t there anymore. He looked around for awhile but didn’t find them. Frustrated and tired, he sat down on his stupid throne. He didn’t go back down the hallway to the colorful room. He couldn’t take it anymore. It was getting late. He should probably go get his servant out of the dungeon and have him get him back in the bacta tank. Maybe the next time he woke up, all of this would be gone, and he could go back to drowning in his misery.


	5. Golden

            He stood up when Ahsoka entered the room, reaching automatically for his lightsaber. But he dropped it empty-handed when he saw her. She was wearing a long silky red nightgown with ivory lace around the edges. His breath caught in his throat as she seemed to float towards him. She looked so completely stunning he could hardly think. Was this part of the trick? Did he even care?

            She came up to him, stood up on her tip toes and kissed the side of his helmet. “Love,” she whispered, her voice so soft and sweet. “Are you going to stay up and mope or come to bed?” His eyes followed her as she turned and headed towards the other rooms. The way the straps of her dress crisscrossed over the bare orange skin of her back was getting him heated. It draped beautifully down her curves. Screw it, he didn’t care anymore. He went after her without another thought. Dream or no dream, he wasn’t going to waste a moment to feel something other than hatred again.

            She smiled up at him as they stood between the airlocks to enter his chamber, her hands on his chest. When the second door opened, he stared inside for a moment in surprise. She’d transformed it into something that actually felt like a bedroom. In fact, if he could forget the last fourteen years completely, he’d have thought he was back on Shili. She reached out and took his hand, leading him in.

            When the door closed and sealed behind them, she reached up and lifted off the protective plate of his helmet. Then she unlatched the top half and set it aside. He watched her as she removed his cloak and armor. Her movements were so graceful and tender. Once she’d taken off the neck guard, she paused long enough to run her long slender fingers down his cheek. He swallowed with difficulty and his lip trembled sadly. She was so perfect. He felt a rush of emotion, something he hadn’t felt in years. He no longer cared if she was a dream or a ghost or even a memory. All he wanted was to fall back into her arms.

            It was a good thing she’d taken the lead, because he could hardly function. He was having a hard time just standing there as it all overwhelmed him. She kissed him, running her fingers around his neck. In her eyes there was only love.

            “Am I dreaming?” he whispered, the strength of his voice gone without the suit.

            “No,” she smiled. She lifted his heavy metal hands up to touch her face. “I’m here and I’m not leaving you again.”

            “This is too good to be real,” he choked. He sat down on the pile of furs she’d laid out in the room. “How did you get here?”

            There was a flash of mischief in her eyes, a sparkle he hadn’t seen in so long. “Rex,” she whispered. “Your silly Empire never changed the clearance codes the clones used during the war.”

            “Rex?” he asked in surprise. “No, impossible. You’re both dead, this isn’t real. He killed you.”

            She knelt down in front of him, running her hands up his thighs and shook her head. “Rex saved me,” she said. “I would have died on Mandalore had he not removed the control chip in his head.” She patted him. “You owe him big time. Ashla and I are alive because of him.”

            “Where have you been?”

            She sat back on her heels, a sad look crossed her pretty features. “Here, there, everywhere,” she murmured. “After the Jedi purge, we couldn’t stay anywhere for very long. We were constantly on the move, on the run. But we survived. We’re here now. Oh Anakin,” she dropped her head in his lap. “If I’d known you were still alive…” Tears were streaming down her cheek when she looked up at him again. He slid off the edge onto his knees. “They said on the news, you’d died defending the temple. I didn’t want to believe it, but I couldn’t find you in the force. You were just gone. It felt like half of me died with you. I thought I’d never be whole again. Ashla was all that kept me moving. Without her, I don’t think I would have survived it. I thought she was all I had left of you.”

            “The Emperor told me you’d been killed. That they found your body on Mandalore. That Rex had killed you.” He dropped his head down on her shoulder. “With everything that happened, I couldn’t feel you anymore. It had happened so fast. I didn’t even question it. I lost myself that day, Ahsoka,” he breathed. “I think I lost everything.”

            “Shhh,” she said, rubbing his back. “You’re here, I’m here. We’re going to be okay.”

            “I’ve done such horrible things,” he cried. She held him as he sobbed.

            “Anakin,” she whispered after awhile, running her fingers across his cheek again to brush away the tears. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you. I never will. Whatever happened, it’s in the past now. We can’t undo it. We can’t change it. We can only go from here.” She kissed him again, deeply. He melted into her touch. “But let’s forget about it tonight, okay? I just want to hold you again.”

            She got to her feet and pulled him up. Then she helped him remove the rest of his suit, stripping down until he was just in his shorts. Now that all the bulky things in the way were gone, she hugged him tightly. He pulled her into his arms, molding her body as hard against his skin as he could. He kissed her on the forehead, savoring the feel and smell of her again. He breathed her in, forgetting everything else for the time being. She said this wasn’t a dream, he wanted to believe her. Rex had saved her. Rex had protected her when he couldn’t. She was right, he owed him big time. A clone captain nobody had cared about as much as they had. He hated himself for cursing his name for the past fourteen years. Even if he _had_ killed her, it wouldn’t have been by choice. That had been the whole point of the control chips; they overrode a person’s freewill to do their master’s bidding. Their master being Sidious.

            He felt a rush of hatred. The very master he’d sworn to serve because he lost everything, had been the one that had _stolen_ everything from him. “Please don’t,” she whispered against his chest. He looked down at her pretty blue eyes as she tipped her chin up to look at him. “No hatred. Only love tonight.”

            His anger and hatred receded into the inner reaches of his brain like a scolded pup running away with its tail between its legs. It was replaced with a feeling he’d forgotten. One he’d never been able to recreate from the moment he’d believed he’d lost her. He breathed in her warmth and light, letting it seep in and illuminate the shadows. _Golden_. Golden like the sun. Like the grass. Like the leaf. But just like the vision they’d shared in that cave, his leaf had burned to ash and singed hers. He swallowed hard.

            She pushed him back down onto the bed of furs. Then she came around to the other side and climbed in with him. He opened his arms and she crawled into them, burying her face in his neck and kissing his skin. He used the force to dim the lights, so they weren’t glaring in his unprotected eyes. “How could you love this?” he rasped after awhile.

            “Because this isn’t all that you are, Anakin.” She scooted up, so she could look him in the eyes. Then she kissed him gently on the nose. “You are so much more than this.” He ran his mechanical hand across her back wishing he could feel her skin and having to settle for the memory of it against his fingertips. She threw a couple blankets over them and curled into him.

            A feeling started deep inside him. He hadn’t noticed it at first, overwhelmed by all the others. But it seemed as though from the moment she’d reappeared, he was waking up. Not like he felt he needed to believing all this was a dream. Rather, like his soul was coming to life again. Like everything that had been lost or locked away was rising from the ashes and filling the empty carcass he’d been living in for so long. Her presence was synonymous with the beating of his heart. Like it had returned with her.

            He didn’t want to think about the horrible things he’d done. He didn’t want to remember anything but her. The only version of himself he’d ever been proud of was the one that existed only in her eyes. They were the wildest ocean and the vastest starry space, but also his safest place. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tried sleeping in a bed, often struggling to breathe lying on his back or side. Because of his injuries, he’d been forced to learn to sleep sitting up, or only in the bacta tank. But her soothing presence drained the tension in his bones and relaxed his muscles. The pain receded as though she’d massaged that healing salve into his soul too.

            He didn’t want to think about the future. He didn’t want to think about how they’d make this work. Or even if she’d still be there in the morning. All he wanted was to hold her tight and never let her go. Tomorrow would come whether he wanted it to or not. It would bring its share of hell and torture and pain. But maybe, just maybe, it would be bearable with her here.

            “Tell me about Ashla,” he said after awhile hoping she was still awake. It was still difficult to believe they had a child together. She fascinated him. He wanted to know all about her. He’d never wanted to be a father. At least he’d never considered it before. The Jedi rules had extended so far. He was willing to break them for love but parenthood? Maybe if the war had ended like it should have. Maybe if they hadn’t of been torn apart. Maybe if they’d willingly left the order… Maybe then he would have considered it.

            Now though, when he looked at the girl. When he felt her in the room, when he saw her… he felt this longing to know her. To reach to her, to understand her. It was a feeling he didn’t fully understand. She was clearly strong in the force, Ahsoka had nurtured that in her. The way she talked about machines had excited him. He couldn’t wait to sit down with her and puzzle through a project together. He’d liked her voice. And even though she’d acted shy and nervous, he felt Ahsoka’s fire in her and he couldn’t wait to pull it out.

            “Oh where do I start?” Ahsoka murmured finally. “I told you she was perfect, and she really is.”

            “She never misbehaves?” he asked in surprise. “I find that hard to believe knowing what you were like.”

            “Just so you know, Skyguy, I learned most of my bad habits from you.” She pecked him on the lips. “And I never said that. She’s perfect because she’s ours.” She was quiet for a moment and he watched her face and the way a smile crossed her lips. “She’s a good kid though; thoughtful, kind, smart. But yes, trouble making runs in the family.” Ahsoka laughed suddenly. “When she was four, she took apart our ship’s hyperdrive. I thought we’d be stranded there forever. I didn’t know how to put it back together. All your lessons only taught me how to fix things, not build them from a pile of parts. Thankfully though, she was also able to put it back together. Here’s the kicker though, she made it better than it ever was to begin with. Same parts. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

            “Impressive,” he said after a moment. “I built a droid when I was nine.” He felt a pang at the thought of Threepio. He wondered what happened to him and Artoo for that matter.

            “Yes, I remember,” she said. “Threepio, right? The one you gave Padmé?”

            “Yes. I made him for my mother, but when she died…” She ran her hand down his arm.

            “No bad memories tonight,” she whispered. He swallowed the rush of feelings. “When Ashla was six, she collapsed a building on a squadron of stormtroopers. I don’t think she meant to, I’m not sure she even knew what she was doing. She has much better control now. Thankfully none of them were killed.”

            “How’d she do that?” he asked in surprise.

            “It was some kind of force quake,” Ahsoka said quietly. “With all the fear around being discovered, I admit I didn’t want to train her how to fight. But I hadn’t counted on just how strong she’d be. Whenever she was scared especially, or experiencing a really strong emotion, something would happen. Usually things I didn’t even know were possible. I hate to say it, but she was the main reason we had to keep moving around a lot. It took a long time to teach her to control that. Maybe you could help her with it? I taught her to channel it into other things than fighting; like her mechanical talents, crafting, building, working with her hands. She’s more like you that way, I’m not sure I helped her or hindered her.”

            “I’m sure you did just fine,” he said and kissed her on the forehead.

            “Anakin,” she said suddenly. “There’s something else…”

            “Yeah?”

            “Have you ever heard of a force bond so strong that you can travel across the galaxy to be with someone?” she asked nervously, biting her lip.

            “What do you mean?” he said in confusion.

            “There were times I had to leave her with other people. Times we spent apart. But every night, we could reach each other through the force. Through meditation. Sometimes it felt like I was sitting in her room talking to her. I could touch her or hold her. There were times it felt like she was there with me; sitting on my lap as though she was really there. I thought I was imagining it for the longest time. That maybe because I was missing her, my brain was helping me hallucinate or something. I don’t know what to make of it. That bond though, it’s still there. We can communicate through it. We never have to call each other, no matter where either of us are. Like if I were to tell her to come here, right now, she’d knock on the door in a few minutes.”

            He stared at the ceiling. “I don’t remember my Jedi history very well, but I seem to recall something along those lines. The force can connect people in strange ways. Especially two people that have a particularly strong bond. Since Jedi didn’t allow families, I don’t know anything about bonds between a mother and a child, but I imagine it would be unusually strong.”

            “I figured it must be something like that too. But I also wondered if it had something to do with her being your daughter. You are the Chosen One after all. Your midichlorians were off the charts. She probably has a high concentration of them too,” Ahsoka said thoughtfully.

            “Don’t write yourself off,” he said quickly. “She could have gotten a lot from me, but you were very strong too. The daughter of two strong force users? Yeah, I imagine she’d be insanely powerful. She could be…”

            “Please don’t say dangerous,” she cut him off. “She just needs to be taught control.” She looked up at his face, anxiety written across her features. “She’ll be safe here, right?” she breathed. In her eyes were reflected years of fear and worry; a mother’s anguish. She felt helpless to raise her own child properly. She studied him as though she were reading a book, searching for the answer she needed to hear.

            “I won’t let anyone hurt her,” he promised. She watched him for a few moments longer and finally relaxed.

            “Thank you,” she said finally. “I’m scared, but I feel better here with you.” He pulled her tight as silence fell between them. He wasn’t sure he could help their daughter either, but he wanted to try. The way Ahsoka described her power unnerved him though. How would he keep her a secret from Sidious? Would he be able to protect them? Could he teach her control? Could he train her without corrupting her?


	6. Nightmares

            He woke with a start and looked around disoriented. He’d been sleeping soundly as far as he knew, so he wasn’t sure what had interrupted it. Normally he’d have blamed nightmares, but he couldn’t recall any. For a minute it felt like he was in the bacta tank, perhaps finally waking from his dream. He turned his head, dreading the emptiness of her absence again, but she shifted in response to his movements and sighed softly. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and tried not to gasp for air, so he didn’t wake her up. 

            He tipped his head back and tried to go back to sleep. But now that he was alert from whatever had startled him, he only managed to stare at the ceiling. If he were honest, maybe he was afraid to go back to sleep; afraid to chance her not being there the second time. He moved his arm over wishing he could feel what her skin felt like under his metal fingertips. 

            He couldn’t decide if he hated this body more or less now that she was here. Ahsoka had been as physical of a person as he was, but her words earlier had held so much weight. She’d said he was more than this; that she loved all of him. Only she could look past everything and love the person underneath; the one he’d tried so hard to kill or cut from him as though that were possible. Remembering who he’d been only brought him pain. But now that he knew she was alive, now that she was here, he was grateful he’d never managed to destroy it. Though he was certain it couldn’t exist without her anymore. 

            Unable to go back to sleep, he finally pulled back the covers and tried to sit up without disturbing her. He started to pull on his clothes and put his suit together. He wasn’t completely helpless, though it felt that way sometimes. Through years of practice and meditation, he’d learned how to assemble his broken body and get himself in and out of the suit and even the bacta tank using only the force. It took a lot of energy and effort, often leaving him exhausted and out of breath, so he didn’t do it much. In fact, it was something he’d never let his servant know he could do. Vaneé reported everything back to his master and if Sidious knew he was able to do things for himself, either his life would get a whole lot harder or more painful. 

            Thinking about his servant frustrated him. If Ahsoka was here, he couldn’t bring himself to kill him in cold blood. But he couldn’t be allowed to tell Sidious that she was here, or worse, that their child was. In the off-chance Sidious didn’t know he had a child with Ahsoka, he certainly didn’t want to go announcing it. Especially since he’d promised her she’d be safe here. They weren’t in danger of stormtroopers or inquisitors here, but his master finding out was a far worse threat. But if Vaneé didn’t check in, Sidious would grow suspicious. Could he lie successfully about his servant having an accident or something? Or would that just prompt him to send another servant and only compound the problem?

            He didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t want to figure it out right now. Fully outfitted again, however exhausted, he made his way to the antechamber of the meditation room, closed the inner door and opened the outer one. 

            He could have stayed in there with her forever. In fact, it bothered him to even consider leaving that bed until morning, but something was nagging at him. It wasn’t an impending threat, or an unexpected visitor, it was just a vibration of sorts. A kind of tingly feeling, like something was off or something he wasn’t used to. It could easily be Ahsoka’s presence, but he hadn’t felt it as strongly in there with her as he did out here. 

            Now that he thought about it though, it kind of amazed him that Ahsoka hadn’t woken up to him getting dressed and leaving. She’d always been a light sleeper, it was an ingrained habit of the Jedi, or force users in general. Besides growing up during a war, she’d described constantly being on the run and on high alert since the purge. So perhaps, here with him was the first time she felt safe enough to sleep hard and without fear. He’d been doing the same thing, at least until the trickle of something had startled him awake. He always slept better with her there, so he needed to get to the bottom of this, so he could relax again. 

            He wandered the rooms for awhile feeling listless, but the tingly sensation never let up. He stopped halfway through the throne room and backtracked. 

            She was sitting on the floor, her back against the window edge, staring out at the lava as though mesmerized by it. Her long blonde-ish hair was shiny enough to reflect the orange and reds as though she actually had ginger colored hair instead of his old color. It draped gracefully down her shoulders in soft waves.

            He assumed she was lost in thought or asleep or something since she hadn’t appeared to notice his presence. Which would be difficult to miss. His mechanical limbs did nothing but announce his entrance with a clunky gait against the stone and metal. His breathing apparatus was intentionally louder than was necessary. 

            He studied her for a few minutes, wondering why she wasn’t still sleeping in the room Ahsoka had made up for her. Despite everything Ahsoka had said the night before, it was still so difficult to wrap his head around them having a child. He smiled at the sudden realization that she was approximately the same age Ahsoka had been when he’d first met her. 

            It was hard to believe it had been so long, or so long ago. She’d lit up his life like an explosion, turned it upside down overnight. And despite Ashla’s entrance into his life being considerably less dramatic, he had a hunch she was about to do exactly the same thing. 

            Indecisive but curious, he turned and started heading towards her. Halfway there she finally noticed him and sat up in surprise, quickly wiping her eyes. She’d tried to hide that she’d been crying, but he’d seen the glimmer of tears. 

            “Are you alright?” he asked her. 

            “Hi Dad,” she said quickly. “Uh, yeah I’m fine. I just had a nightmare, that’s all. But it’s nothing to worry about, I have them all the time.” She hugged herself by crossing her arms in front of her and stared at her toes. 

            So, it wasn’t a nightmare of his own that had awoken him this time, but he didn’t like knowing she’d inherited those from him. “Does Ahsoka know you have nightmares?”

            “Yeah,” she said softly. “She talks me through them if I need her to, but she doesn’t know how to stop them. There isn’t much she can do about it.” She rubbed her hands together and sighed. “I’ve gotten kind of used to them by now, so I try not to wake her up anymore.”

            He reached down a hand to her. “Tell me about it,” he said. He didn't know much about being a father, but he knew all about having nightmares. Of course, how helpful could he be? He’d never gotten rid of them either. Only Ahsoka had ever soothed them, but not even she could stop them completely. They’d just become a part of his life he’d been forced to accept would always be there. 

            She looked up at him hesitantly and then finally took his outstretched hand. He pulled her to her feet as though she weighed nothing. She was built small, like Ahsoka, but she was already tall.

            “There’s not a lot to say, I guess,” she murmured as he beckoned towards his throne for her to sit. “Like I said, they happen all the time. They’re pretty similar. Different scenarios but consistent details.”

            “It’s been my experience,” he started carefully as she sat down on the throne and he looked around for another chair. “That if certain elements become repetitive that it’s trying to tell you something.” Suddenly frustrated that there was no other furniture in the room he turned away. “Hold that thought,” he muttered as he marched out of the room and over the lava bridge. 

            He’d never cared about the sparse furniture inside this place before. It never bothered him that he had nothing comfortable. As far as he’d been concerned, it was all he deserved. But now with Ahsoka and Ashla here, it annoyed him greatly. He wanted them to be comfortable even if he shouldn’t be. He wanted them to not feel like they were in jail or worse. But how could he make his fortress more cozy for them? By design it was meant to intimidate, to not welcome guests, to keep him from entertaining and to keep him miserable. And there was really nothing he could do about it. Not without alerting Sidious anyways. It wasn’t like he could just hop on a ship and go furniture shopping. 

            He stopped near the entrance of his castle and stared at the ship they’d flown in on. Up until now, he’d not been allowed his own ship. He had his tie fighter of course, but it was on Tarkin’s flagship, the Executrix. It was also kept empty of fuel, to only be filled with enough for whatever his missions required. It had a hyperdrive, but you couldn’t go very far with it. And whenever there was need for him, he was picked up and escorted there, often by Tarkin himself. It was by design that he was isolated and trapped here.

            But Ahsoka had come with a ship. He had the strongest urge to start it up and take off. Except how would he get past the blockade? Tarkin’s fleet was there to stop anything from getting down to the surface, but also to prevent him from leaving without permission from his master. How had she gotten through then? She’d said Rex had given her clearance codes, but why hadn’t Tarkin questioned it? What exactly had she told them with the codes? 

            Remembering Ashla and his original reason for coming out this far, he reluctantly turned back towards his servant’s quarters and finally found a couple chairs. He floated them with the force, back out of the quarters and across the bridge. He grumbled to himself about it as they bumped into doorways. 

            Ashla looked up in surprise when the door opened, and two chairs floated towards her. He let them fall near the throne and tried to take a deep breath. He wasn’t the man he used to be, in more ways than one, but he tried to hide the discomfort and pain from the exertion. In most cases, under threat, he could withstand plenty of action before it wore him out. But there were some things that took more energy than others and he was already weaker from having to put himself together alone. If he’d been smart, he would have woken Ahsoka, so she could help him, but he’d wanted her to rest. He’d also skipped a round in the healing waters of the bacta tank to sleep with her tonight. 

            Ashla had gotten to her feet and picked up the chair that had fallen to the side and was holding the back of it while she looked him over. He instantly straightened and gritted his teeth to the pain. Why did it matter how she saw him? He thought of the doll she had in her room and the way Ahsoka must have spoken of him for her to not greet him with any hostility. Maybe he _did_ care what she thought. But he didn’t want to seem weak. He didn’t want her to be disappointed that this was her father, that this was what he’d been reduced to. 

            He tried to blink away the tears welling in the corners of his eyes and let out some air in frustration when the heads-up display flipped through its menu settings. He glanced down when he saw her shift like she wanted to reach out to him, but she changed her mind and hugged herself again. 

            “Okay,” he said, when he caught his breath again. “Where were we?” He could sense her attempt to temper her curiosity and she finally sat back down on the throne. She pulled her long legs up under her and curled up, so she appeared smaller than she was. 

            “We were talking about nightmares,” she whispered. 

            “Right,” he murmured. “You were going to tell me about yours.” He ignored the stabbing pain as he reached into the force yet again to move one of the chairs he’d brought in closer to her, so he could sit down. 

            She glanced at him but then looked away, a glassy look on her face. She didn’t appear to be scared of him per say; more curious than fearful anyways. But he could sense her uncertainty and her battle with herself on how to talk to him. She was warm, like Ahsoka, but there lingered anxiety underneath her calm face or excited expressions she’d greeted him with before. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the nightmares or something else entirely. 

            She didn’t speak for a few minutes and he was starting to wonder if she’d changed her mind about telling him. “Most of my nightmares consist of being discovered,” she said finally. “By inquisitors or something worse.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “When Mom fought a grand inquisitor on Raada, I was barely two. I don’t remember much, but I remember his face. Grey skin. An alien of a species I’ve never heard of or seen again. His eyes were full of malice and hatred. I see them the most in the nightmares. I remember his mocking laughter, I remember the darkness. I remember how hard Mom fought him to protect me. And I remember the explosion the most. It was gruesome.”

            “What explosion?” he asked curiously. He’d read the imperial report about an incident on Raada. About the death of one of his grand inquisitors. But there’d been no intel that indicated Ahsoka could have been the surviving Jedi they’d discovered or that there was a young child in the mix. And he’d definitely not read anything about an explosion. Well that wasn’t true. The barracks had exploded, and the walkers had crumbled under some kind of acid bombs, but he had a sense the barracks wasn’t what she was referring to. He wasn’t sure though, if he should be disappointed or proud that Ahsoka had killed one of his specially trained inquisitors. Although admittedly it hurt more than he expected to realize the monsters he’d trained had tried to kill the only person he didn’t want dead. Only  _people_ , now that he knew about Ashla too. 

            She squeezed her eyes shut and screwed up her face in disgust. But then she seemed to take a deep breath to steady herself. “The lightsaber hilt,” she started. He felt the tremor in her voice. “Mom grabbed it when he swung at her. I’m not sure how it happened or why. But I know she was responsible for it.”

            “She grabbed his lightsaber and it exploded?” he asked in surprise.

            “She dove away to protect me, but I saw it under her arm. Skin, blood, guts... everywhere.” She smacked her lips together and made a face as though she’d just tasted the most disgusting food in the world. “I’d never cried like that before. It was horrible.”

            He scooted his chair closer still and leaned forward. “Let me get this straight,” he picked his words carefully. “Ahsoka grabbed the inquisitor’s lightsaber, and a few moments later it exploded?” The report had most certainly left that out. It only said he’d been killed, not blasted to bits. Should he be worried that Ahsoka was capable of something like that? It didn’t sound like something she would do. But then he remembered what she’d said about how Ashla’s abilities seemed to come out the strongest when she was afraid. What if Ahsoka, fearing for her daughter’s life, had tapped into something she’d never been tempted by before? And what else didn’t he know about what she could do? And why had the report left out such crucial details?

            “Yes...” Ashla said hesitantly. “I was only two, but I can’t forget it.”

            He tipped his head to the side and looked at her closer. “You said his eyes haunt your dreams. That you have nightmares about being discovered...” he started thoughtfully. “Do you have nightmares about Ahsoka too? About what you witnessed that day? Are you scared of her?”

            “Of course not,” Ashla said quickly, with Ahsoka’s brand of indignation; the kind that by its very nature confirmed exactly what she was saying she wasn’t feeling. “How could I be scared of my own mother?”

            He sat back in his chair and stared past her at the wall. By accident, their daughter had witnessed and later experienced power she couldn’t at that age comprehend. It wasn’t that she feared Ahsoka exactly, but rather she feared the show of power that Ahsoka had displayed. And as she got older, and the nightmares continued, and she came into her own power, she was forced to bear witness repeatedly to horrible things she couldn’t control. So, in essence, she feared herself. 

            Which meant that Ahsoka teaching her to channel it into other things was both good and bad. It was good for her to have another outlet for it; a positive one that didn’t involve blood or death. But bad, because it meant she never learned control of the other part and would only respond or use it in fear; dreading all the while, what would happen when she did. 

            It also meant that if this fear of her abilities continued she would either freeze up when she needs it most, or worse, be so compounded by fear, far worse things could happen. He couldn’t see her tempted by the dark side, but he could very easily see her tapping into it accidentally. And perhaps she already was. Which would also explain Ahsoka’s fear about him saying Ashla could be dangerous. 

            He reached out wanting to comfort her, but she jumped a bit and he pulled his hand back. Being here with him, wasn’t helping the situation either. Not yet at least, because she had to know the truth of who he was and who he worked for. So, that meant she was probably scared of what she’d learn from him too. 

            He looked up when he felt Ahsoka and saw her standing in the doorway with a blanket around her shoulders. Her face was written with concern, but visibly relaxed when he noticed her. She came over next to the throne.

            “Did you have another nightmare?” she asked Ashla, setting her long fingers on her shoulder.

            “Yeah,” Ashla said softly. “It was nothing.”

            Ahsoka pulled her into a hug over the arm of the chair and Ashla held her tightly. He watched the embrace, wondering about what he’d learned tonight. Part of him wanted to test Ashla by invoking her abilities, but he wasn’t sure that would go over well with Ahsoka. Or if it wouldn’t damage Ashla more to have to use them. If she feared them, it meant it would take a lot to coax her to use them, to the point that he might have to scare her to bring them out. How would that help the situation?

            It was obvious she trusted her mother, but she didn’t tell Ahsoka everything. And if it had occurred to her before their conversation tonight, that she was afraid of Ahsoka’s power and her own, she definitely didn’t tell that to her mother either. Was that something  _he_  should tell Ahsoka? He watched the way Ahsoka stroked her hair and he couldn’t help but smile softly as he remembered when she used to do that to him. 

            “Well you’re talking to the right person,” Ahsoka said suddenly. “Your father knows all about nightmares.”

            “You have nightmares too?” Ashla looked up at him. He looked between them for a moment and finally nodded. “Yes.”

            “Are they like...” she trailed off and furtively glanced up at Ahsoka.  _Mine_ , he finished in his head for her. She wanted to know if he replayed traumatizing events in his dreams just like her. But for whatever reason, was afraid to let Ahsoka know what kind of nightmares she had. Which might be because she didn’t want her mother to know she had nightmares about something Ahsoka probably didn’t know she’d even seen. 

            “Yes,” he answered again. 

            Ahsoka must have sensed the silent exchange between them because she rubbed Ashla on her back and then came over and squeezed his arm. Then she drifted past them and disappeared towards the lava bridge. He wasn’t sure why she headed that way instead of back to bed, but he let her go without asking. 

            When he turned back, he found Ashla sitting forward and staring at him intensely. “Are the nightmares... are they a dark side thing?” she asked nervously. 

            Was this where he told her he’d had them long before becoming a Sith?

            “No,” he replied instead. “Nightmares are bad, but they can happen to anyone.” He stood up. “Come with me.” He turned and headed to the secret door down to his private sanctum. She followed him down the spiral stairs in silence and looked around in awe when they entered the first room full of miscellaneous things he’d collected over the years. “Ashla,” he started, and she tore her eyes from all the objects and glanced up at him. “Some experiences we have will stick with us forever. Some memories will haunt our dreams. But you can’t fear your power, or your mother’s power. That will only cause more problems.”

            “But I...” she seemed to be about to contradict him but then decided against it. “How can I not fear it? I can’t control it.” She shuddered. “When it comes out, it’s terrifying. Mom tells me to meditate with my hands. I think she believes if my hands are occupied, I can’t destroy anything. I know she doesn’t say it, but she’s scared of what I can do. So how am I supposed to not be afraid of it?”

            He stepped closer to her and set his hand on her shoulder. “Power is all about control. Meditating with your hands is good, but it can’t be your only outlet. Control can be taught. Besides, Ahsoka isn’t scared of you or of your power.”

            “But...”

            “She’s scared _for_ you,” he said softly, leaning down to look her in the face. “Ahsoka has seen a lot of crazy things in her life, strong power in the force isn’t going to tip her over the edge. Unfortunately, you’re growing up in a time where force users are feared and hunted. So, she’s more worried about what might happen if they catch up with you than what you can do.”

            “And you’re part of why that is, aren’t you?” she asked. She hadn’t said it exactly like an accusation, but her words had hurt nonetheless. How could he possibly explain to his child how he’d ended up here doing this? He felt a rush of anger, but it fizzled out when she jerked away. 

            He dropped into a nearby chair and sighed. “Yes.” He stared at the wall for a moment and wondered exactly what he was supposed to say about it. “Towards the end of the war, everything was spiraling out of control. The Republic was losing, so many people were dying. I truly believed that the Chancellor had a solution to the problem. That he knew how to end it. No matter how hard the Jedi fought, we were being slaughtered on all sides. We were spread too thin and couldn’t keep up with the unending droid forces. Tensions rose between the senate and the Jedi order; accusations were being thrown around as carelessly as garbage. The public turned on the Jedi, believing they were the reason the war wasn’t ending. In the public eye, they were mysterious warrior monks whose methods and cold indifference seemed scary and threatening. They possessed power the people didn’t understand, and when things are different and unknown, they’re often feared. So... when everything came to a head, I sided with the Chancellor. Despite being raised with the Jedi, I’d witnessed firsthand how many times they failed to stop conflicts or earn victory simply because of their beliefs.

            “Everything fell apart after that. Jedi were being killed by the thousands. The clones were ordered to turn on them to protect the people. When I was told your mother had been killed... I thought I’d lost everything. I thought my own actions had led to her death. I no longer knew what I was really fighting for. So, when the Chancellor offered me a way to end the war... I agreed. If I’d known at that moment how much it would have cost me or the galaxy... I never would have taken his offer. The next thing I knew, the remaining Jedi turned on me too, including my old master. And well...” He looked down at the floor. “Now here we are. After the purge, I had nothing left. Everyone I’d ever loved was dead, or so I believed. The Chancellor saved me from death and offered me a chance to help rebuild the galaxy. So, I did. I stopped caring what side I fought for or why. I just did what he told me to do because his plan made sense even if I didn’t like the details of it. But what choice did I really have at that point? If I chose not to follow him, I was just like every other Jedi; a threat.”

            “That explains how you ended up here,” she whispered after a moment. “But it doesn’t explain why you trained people to hunt down force users all over the galaxy.”

            He studied her face for a moment wondering how much of her need to know was actually her own need, or Ahsoka’s need she’d picked up on over the years. “The Emperor believed that any surviving Jedi would regroup and become a bigger threat. In the interest of public safety, he believed they needed to be tracked down.” He hesitated to say that it had made sense at the time. Despite the Jedi’s beliefs, surely some of them would have responded to what happened out of revenge. And since the people were scared of them, they fully supported the genocide and what followed. They even turned a blind eye to what happened to the younger ones that were found by inquisitors.

            He’d never let it bother him before, what had happened. It wasn’t that he’d wanted all the Jedi killed. He knew they weren’t the threat that everyone believed, but if he didn’t go along with the plan, he would become one of the hunted. So… he’d stopped caring what happened. He pretended it didn’t bother him. He let it be as it was. It wasn’t like people he knew or loved were being hunted too. He looked back at her face. But they were. And if he’d had any clue, even the slightest hint that Ahsoka hadn’t died that day… he never would have gone along with the Emperor’s plan. He never would have helped create the army that had chased her and their child mercilessly. He never would have chosen the Chancellor over her. What the kriff had he even been thinking?

            Rex had saved them. Rex hadn’t just saved them from the other clones; his brothers. He’d saved them from the purge, from his master, from his own army… and from himself. He really hated himself all of a sudden. Why would she come here now, knowing what he’d done? Why would she seek sanctuary in the very place so much evil and horror originated? Why was she so sure they’d be safe here?

            Ashla stepped towards him nervously, reaching out to him. He wasn’t sure why, but he gave her his hand. She took it gently, not that he could feel it. “Mom believes in you,” she said. “So, I do too.” She looked down at their hands. “And maybe we can’t erase the last fourteen years, but if it’s possible to fix it… would you try?”

            “Yes,” he said without hesitation. He wasn’t sure how, or if it was possible, but if she wanted him to, he would do everything in his power to do so. She smiled suddenly and leaned down to throw her arms around his neck. He was surprised by her sudden show of affection, but he hugged her back as best as he could.


	7. Shattered

            He paused halfway through the ship when he heard voices. He turned up the sensitivity and increased the range of the audio receivers in his helmet. Who could she be talking to? He’d left Ashla back in her room and gone looking for Ahsoka since she’d never come back past them. Was she reporting to someone? Was all of this some kind of trick to destabilize his place within the Empire? If it wasn’t a vision, was there another sinister reason for her sudden appearance?

            “How is he?” He heard an oddly familiar voice. 

            “Different,” Ahsoka answered. “But he’s still in there.”

            “I hope so. For your sake and for Ashla’s.” The first voice spoke again. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

            “I don’t know.” She sounded so dejected, it hurt far more than he expected. “But I’m staying here regardless.”

            “Well I can’t tell you what to do, but if you need it, say the word and the whole fleet will be there to get you both out.”

            “Thank you, Rex,” she said softly. “But I hope it won’t come to that.”

            _Rex_. She hadn’t been lying. Rex was still alive and still watching out for her and for their daughter. And maybe even for him. Though it sounded more like he didn’t trust him to keep Ahsoka and Ashla safe. Which stung but if he were honest about the situation he was in, was probably for good reason. 

            He heard her click off the transmission. He backed up like he wanted to hide so she didn’t know he’d been listening, but she didn’t come out. In fact, he heard something completely unexpected from Ahsoka. He strained his ears in order to be sure of what he was hearing. She was weeping. Not like an occasional sniffle or uncertainty he’d seen from her during the war. This came from a place so deep and sorrowful he choked up just hearing it. 

            She’d seemed so sure of herself from the moment he’d seen her standing outside the tank. Even her questioning why they’d come that he’d overheard earlier had been so minimal compared to this. Ahsoka had always been one of the strongest people he’d ever known, so to hear her sound as though she was tearing apart wrenched his insides into knots. And for some reason he was certain this wasn’t the first time she’d wept like this. It was clear now that everything she’d said or done in front of Ashla had been an act. An act to likely convince their daughter she knew exactly what they were doing. But it had never occurred to him what seeing him like this might be like for her. In fact, he’d thought only of his own reaction and circumstance. Other than his talk about nightmares with Ashla and the few tidbits of information Ahsoka had given him before they’d fallen asleep, he knew nothing about what they’d been through. Nothing about how they’d ended up here. 

            There was something about the way Ahsoka had told Rex that he was different and that she was staying here regardless, that sounded decidedly _shattered_ , compared to her normally optimistic attitude. In fact, it sounded almost as though she truly believed bringing them here was a death sentence and she’d accepted that. Accepted that this would kill her. Maybe not perhaps in a physical manner, but mentally it would break her down until there was nothing left. He couldn’t let that happen. 

            Unable to stand as a silent witness any longer, he made his way through the ship to her. She didn’t stop crying when she saw him. She didn’t try to cover it up, if anything, she sobbed harder. 

            He dropped to his knee awkwardly in front of her, burning with the sorrow of seeing her so broken. She scooted closer to him and pulled herself into his arms. He held her as tightly as he could, trying not to worry about what buttons could accidentally get pressed. He couldn’t imagine this was comfortable for either of them, but he didn’t dare move. 

            He wasn’t sure how long they sat there. At some point he’d started crying too. But his tear ducts no longer worked well, and it just ended up burning his eyes and drying them out. He could feel layers and layers of pain and fear being ripped off like bandages, each level burning fresh until they both felt raw and numb. In every wave lived agony and loss, uncertainty and even hopelessness. It reminded him strangely, of the water blessing they’d done on the top of that mountain at the end of their week on Shili. The final rite after they’d accidentally gotten married. How the words she’d spoken that day, the promise she’d made him, had reduced him to tears. Something he’d never allowed himself to show in front of her before. 

            And she’d held him, as though she were the strongest most immovable boulder. And now...

            He pulled back and brought his gloved fingers to her chin, tipping her face back so he could look her in the eyes. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the tears. How could he have thought she’d come here to hurt him? How could he believe that? All she’d ever done, since the moment he’d met her, was stand by him, believe in him, and _love_ him. And when she was the most afraid, for both herself and her daughter, she’d come looking for him. She’d learned he was still alive, somehow, and she’d risked it all to come back. 

            She couldn’t have known exactly what she’d find here. She couldn’t have known what fate awaited them. For all she’d known, she was walking her and her daughter right into the Emperor’s lair. But for him, she’d come. 

            “Ahsoka,” he breathed, choking on the lump in his throat. “I failed you, Ahsoka.” He dropped down onto his butt as his knee gave out, hitting his back against the door frame. She watched him for a moment, her face blank and red, eyes swollen from crying and then she crawled towards him. 

            “We both failed,” she whispered, sitting between his legs and leaning back against the one knee he still had bent. 

            “No.” He shook his head. “I failed. I wasn’t there for you, when you needed me the most. I let the chancellor play with my head. I let him turn me against the Jedi. Against everyone. I believed his stupid lies and I forgot what really mattered. I wish I’d known then what I do now. We could have stayed on Shili. We could have left the order. We could have had a future. Instead, all we got is this. Broken dreams and shattered souls.”

            “Do you think it would have changed anything?” she asked hoarsely, leaning into his hand as he touched her cheek. 

            “I don’t know. But at least we’d have been together.”

            She didn’t say anything for awhile, she just stared blankly at the wall on the opposite side of the cockpit. He watched the side of her face. Her long dark lashes occasionally brushing her cheeks, a residual sniffle, her lips twitching in subtle grimaces of pain. He couldn’t believe how someone so sad could still be so beautiful. Or how someone full of suffering could still be full of light. Despite what Ashla had said about what happened on Raada, he sensed no darkness or evil in Ahsoka. If she’d killed someone in such a manner, even accidentally, there’d be a taint in her energy; a dark streak, throbbing to be noticed in the sea of light. But there was nothing like that in her. 

            He sensed that in their child however. She held a whole spectrum of dark and light. Suddenly curious, he had to know the truth. 

            “Did you explode the lightsaber crystals on Raada?” She looked at him in surprise first, then confusion and then she dropped her head and stared at the floor. 

            “No,” she whispered. He’d only heard her because he still had his helmet’s sensitivity up so high. At first, he wasn’t sure she was going to say anything else, but then she dropped her shoulders and leaned back harder against his leg. It took a lot of strength to keep it upright to hold her. “I grabbed the hilt, to stop his swing. I didn’t have my old lightsabers anymore, I couldn’t go blade to blade with him. As you know, blasters are useless against lightsabers. The force helped some but wasn’t enough unless I used it in a way I wasn’t comfortable doing. But the crystals, the ones he was using, they called to me. I could hear their song in the force. I thought...” she trailed off and stared at her hands. “I thought he’d somehow stolen my old ones and I wanted them back. When I gripped his hilt, the lightsaber burned hotter than I’d ever felt before. I panicked and let go, diving away to protect Ashla who was standing nearby.”

            “It was Ashla that destroyed them, wasn’t it?”

            “No.” She glanced at his face and looked away again. “She didn’t destroy them, but she is the reason why the hilt exploded. I told you, when she’s afraid, odd things happen. I felt the rush of darkness from her. When I turned towards her to protect her, I saw fear written all over her. I didn’t know what to do so I tried to break her focus by knocking her off her feet.”

            “Ashla killed someone by accident when she was only two,” he whispered. “No wonder she has nightmares. And why she fears her power.”

            “I couldn’t stop her from using it, it came out anyways. So, I tried to redirect it into harmless pursuits. I hoped maybe if she had other outlets for it than fighting, we’d be safe.” She played with her nails. “But trouble followed us everywhere. We couldn’t escape the hunters. And it was getting increasingly harder to hide her power. Afraid for us both, I sent her to live with an old friend. A non-force user. Someone that I knew couldn’t stop her power but might be able to teach her in other ways, and in hiding himself was less likely to get her into situations that made her powers come out. I hoped she’d be safer with him than she would be with me.”

            “Rex?” he asked. 

            “Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “Rex had found a couple other surviving clones and together they helped raise Ashla far from civilization. But one of them still had residual trauma with what happened when the war ended, and Rex was concerned if Ashla stayed with them, he’d eventually snap and report her to the Empire. That’s about when I found reports about you, and I knew if you were still alive, you might be the only one that could help her.”

            “So, you risked everything to bring her into the heart of the Empire, right under the Emperor’s nose, not knowing if I’d accept her or you?”

            “When you say it like that, it sounds pretty stupid,” she tried to laugh but there was no humor in her voice. “But yes, basically.”

            He felt a rush of guilt that he was the main reason they’d been on the run to begin with, and worse, that he’d trained the people hunting them non-stop. That now he was somehow going to have to not only keep his word about protecting Ashla, but also manage to undo the trauma she’d experienced that he’d had a hand in creating. And do what he’d promised Ashla too, find a way to fix this, now that he had something to fight for again. The sense of purpose that flooded him dried his tears, but he really had no idea how he was going to do any of those things.

            If he’d known how to undo trauma, he wouldn’t be in the mess he was in right now. If he’d known how to control his power and emotions, the Chancellor wouldn’t have been able to corrupt him. If anyone had a chance at helping Ashla, it was Ahsoka, but she seemed to have lost all faith in her ability to do so. From the sounds of what they’d been through, he supposed he wasn’t surprised. Not only did they not have the Jedi order to help them, a force user as strong as her, would not go unnoticed for long. Especially if she couldn’t control her power.

            However, here, her power could be disguised by his own. Surely even if she was more powerful than him, he held enough pain and turmoil to keep the Emperor from suspecting another. Also, here they wouldn’t be hunted. Whenever he trained inquisitors, it was never here on Mustafar. Either it was aboard Tarkin’s flagship or in the Emperor’s hidden training facility. The only people that ever came to the surface here were Imperial officers that had no sensitivity to the force and all of them feared him, except Tarkin, but he sent storm troopers to pick him up when he was needed.

            “I might be able to teach her control, but it will take awhile. And in order to do so, I will have to push her, possibly even provoke her,” he said finally.

            “I know.” She stared at the floor again. “But I don’t have another choice. Whatever happened, Anakin… wherever you stand with the force now; whatever side you align with… I don’t care. I just want what’s best for her, and I know the light side wasn’t enough. From too young she’s already tapped into the dark side too many times to squash it out of her completely.” She looked up at him searchingly. “But I don’t use the dark side so I’m at a loss for teaching her that.”

            “You really want me to teach her the ways of the Sith?” he asked in surprise.

            “No, I don’t _want_ that. But I don’t know what choice we have. If she forever fears one side of herself, this won’t end well for any of us. I thought maybe if she had a taste of both sides, maybe she could learn balance.” Again, he felt the rush of pain from her. Again, she seemed to be shattered from the inside out. She felt lost. She didn’t know how to help her child. She didn’t know how to help herself. She believed the only remaining option was to teach Ashla the dark side in the hopes that if she no longer feared the darkness, she’d finally learn control. And she knew how risky that was.

            “Ahsoka,” he said, and she finally looked at him again. “She won’t turn into this. There’s too much light in her. I can show her the other side, but I know it won’t tempt her. Whatever you’ve been through, no matter how helpless you felt, you gave her a strong foundation in the light. But whatever we’re going to do to train her, we’re going to do together. The only way to learn balance is to know both sides. I will do my best, but she still needs you too.”  
            He watched as her lip trembled and then she nodded slowly. Then she scooted closer to him and leaned down on his shoulder. With all the parts of his suit, it couldn’t possibly be comfortable for her, but he watched her take a few deep breaths and try to relax.

            “I promised her I’d try to fix this. All of it,” he said after awhile. “I don’t know if I can undo everything, but I will try.”

            “Thank you,” she said finally. “Anakin?”

            “Hmm?”

            “I don’t want to know what happened,” she said quietly. “I don’t care how we broke. I don’t care why it all fell apart. All I care about is that you’re still here. Whatever happens… I will never stop loving you. And even if our marriage was an accident all those years ago, it still meant everything to me. You’re still my only one.”

            He reached down into his pocket on the side of his belt and flipped it open, pulling out a long thin piece of leather and holding it up in front of her face. “I don’t know how,” he whispered. “But somehow this survived when I caught fire and lost the rest of my limbs. I never stopped wearing it or carrying it.”

            She took the brown piece of leather from him and looked it over. It had faded some, there were a few scorch marks on it, but otherwise it was in still as it had been when the elder had wrapped it around their hands at their wedding. “You kept this?” she asked in surprise. “Even though you were still with Padmé at the time?”

            “Even though I wasn’t expecting to get married to you on Shili, I wasn’t sorry that it happened,” he laughed. “So yeah, I kept it. After Padmé and I broke up, it became that much more important to me.”

            _“_ _Wherever you both shall go, you are now tied together by a sturdy thread. Bonded for life. In times of hardship, you will carry each other's burdens. In times of fortune, you will share your joy. Recognized by Ka d' det Suun, ashla lives within you both. In each other strength and relief, and most importantly, love,”_ she recited from memory and he smiled at her, even though she couldn’t see it. She gripped the piece of leather in each hand and tugged on it as hard as she could, and he watched her curiously.

            “What are you doing?” he asked finally as she wrestled with it for a long time.

            “Testing the strength of our bond. The elder was right,” she laughed. “It is a sturdy thread.” She handed it back to him and he looked it over in confusion and then it dawned on him. He put it back in the pouch on his belt and took her by the shoulders.

            “No matter what happens, we will be together. I won’t let anything tear us apart again.” He set one finger on the tip of her nose. “I kissed on it.” She smiled and looked down at the floor. “The leather is proof, nothing can destroy what we have.”

            “I admit, I was afraid,” she said. “I was afraid that time and circumstance would change how you felt about me. I tried to convince Ashla that the love we had couldn’t die like that. That if you still lived you _had_ to love me still as much as I loved you. She wasn’t so sure. And to be honest, I questioned it too. You seemed so angry when you first saw me, I thought my worst fear was coming true.”

            “I _was_ angry,” he said, running his hand down her arm. “But not that you were here. The dark side requires suffering and pain to fuel you. I live here in isolation because it’s the best way for every mistake to haunt me. That much time alone makes even the purest memories a nightmare. I didn’t know you were really here. I thought the force was torturing me again. I thought imagining you here would be my darkest hell. And then you came in acting like you’d been here all along and it seemed like I’d finally lost it.”

            “I’m sorry.” She dropped her head. “I thought the only way you’d let us stay was if I acted like I used to, when I could get away with pushing you around.”

            “If it means you’re really alive and you’re really here, you can push me around all you want.” In the course of their conversation, he noticed that she seemed lighter and lighter the longer they talked. Maybe it was possible for wounds like theirs to heal. Maybe all they needed was each other. When she was here, in his life, he not only felt purpose, he felt peace, calm; hope. Like when they used to, side by side, take on the world. They found balance in each other, but Ashla… Ashla would have to find balance in herself. And together, they could teach her it. “Come on,” he said finally. “I have something for you.”

            She looked surprised but then managed to get to her feet and helped him up. He took her hand and led her down to his secret rooms. In the second one, he pulled her old lightsabers from the stand where they’d been collecting dust and brushed them off. Then he brought them out to where she was waiting in the first room. She stared at them in disbelief and took them from him. “How’d you get them?”

            “They’d been found on Mandalore and brought back to the Jedi temple. The moment I saw them, I took them. I wouldn’t let them be used for whatever evil plans the Emperor had for the collected lightsabers and crystals.” She stared at them a moment longer, her face screwed up in confusion. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

            “It’s just…” she trailed off. She turned and started up the stairs and he followed her wondering where she was going. He waited outside the air chamber as she disappeared inside and came back out a few minutes later holding another set of lightsabers, the ones he’d seen hooked to her belt when she’d first appeared. She handed him the new ones. “These crystals…” She pointed to the unfamiliar sabers she’d set in his hand. “They’re the ones that called to me. The ones the inquisitor carried. They felt familiar. I thought they were mine, but mine are still in these.” She held up her old ones and flipped open the crystal compartments to show the kyber crystals still snugly sitting there as though they hadn’t been touched. “How is it possible for me to have two sets? Why were they familiar if they weren’t mine?”

            “I don’t know…”

            “I might be able to answer that.” They both looked up to see Ashla standing outside her room. “I was thinking about what you said, dad.” She started down the hallway towards them. “About my nightmare.” She took Ahsoka’s new lightsabers he’d been holding and flipped open their compartments and reached in to touch the crystals. They glowed bright for a moment and she pulled her hand away as though she’d been burned. “Mom didn’t kill that inquisitor… I did…”

            “Ashla,” Ahsoka said quickly, pulling her into a hug. “It wasn’t your fault.”

            “But it was,” she whispered, looking up at him. “I saw the evil in his eyes and I wanted to destroy it. I wanted him to hurt for hurting us. The next thing I knew… I felt drawn to a pulse in the hilt of his lightsaber and I started concentrating on it. I could have sworn it told me what to do.”

            “You can connect to kyber crystals,” he said suddenly.

            She looked back up at him. “Is that bad?” She chewed on her lip.

            “No,” he said, setting his hand on her shoulder. “It means I know how to help you.” He took Ahsoka’s old lightsabers from her hands and handed them to Ashla. “Can you feel your mother in these?”

            Ashla handed Ahsoka’s new ones back to her and looked over the ones he’d placed in her hands. “Yes,” she said after a moment. He turned to smile at Ahsoka who was watching the exchange with uncertainty. It was only after she didn’t return the smile that he realized he was wearing his helmet and she couldn’t see it.

            “I’ll teach you control.” He pointed to the lightsabers in her hands. “But your mom will guide the way.”

            “I don’t understand…” She raised her brows.

            “Nobody was a stronger light side force user than Ahsoka,” he said. “In your hands lies the sabers she used during the war. Untainted. If you can tap into her crystals, the purity of them will help guide you through the darkness when we provoke your power.” She looked at Ahsoka as though unsure if what he said was possible.

            “If you can talk to kyber crystals…” Ahsoka started slowly as she tried to work it through her brain. “It means you can feel their memories of what they’ve done or participated in. That’s why when you tapped into the inquisitor’s crystals, you felt them telling you how to act. So… you think my old ones will only show her good things?” She glanced at him. “I’ve done questionable things too.”

            “It’s not about the act. It’s about the intention behind the act.” He pulled his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it. Both Ashla and Ahsoka stepped back as the red blade burst to life in front of them. “That’s why Sith have red blades. Their intention is for domination and control, to destroy first. That intention is communicated to the crystal, and that is the memory the crystal gets imprinted with.” He put his saber away and summoned one of Ahsoka’s old ones to his hand. The green blade ignited, and he waved it around in the corridor. “But Ahsoka, no matter what you’ve done, your intention has always been love first, selflessness, the greater good. Your crystal is only imprinted with light. Other Jedi, not all of them had your drive, intention and purity of purpose. All of their crystals would have a combination of both. Like those new ones of yours. If they’d belonged to the inquisitors, they most certainly have darkness in them too. It doesn’t corrupt you, because you have no need or temptation to tap into that darkness.”

            “But I do…” Ashla whispered.

            “You’re not tempted by it Ashla, no matter what you wanted to happen that day. You just haven’t learned to resist it yet,” he said encouragingly, reaching out to close her fingers around Ahsoka’s old lightsabers. “When you carry these, you will feel light. You will feel the purity of purpose that your mother carried all those years. When you open yourself to the force, when you feel them speaking to you, they will only show you how to use them out of love, for good. Control takes time, but as I said before, it can be taught. And this will be the best way to do it.”

            “If you really think it will work, I’ll try…” She sounded unconvinced.

            “If there’s any place for you to learn control safely, it’s here,” Ahsoka said comfortingly. “I know you’re scared, but I promise you this, we’ll be right here with you. Both of us.” Ashla looked between them, her eyes lingering on him and then finally nodded.


	8. Choices

            “We have a problem.” She looked up from where her and Ashla had been sitting on her bed when Anakin stopped in the doorway. She should have known better than to think that everything would just work out once they made it here. There’d been too many variables to account for that she’d had no information on. But she didn’t like the fear in his voice. Even with the raspy quality from his helmet, she recognized it. This was a deep fear, the fear of loss. The one he’d tried so hard to hide throughout the years, but the one she’d always felt. In fact, she doubted he ever knew how deeply it had resonated with her whenever it vibrated from him first. “Tarkin is on his way here.”

            She stood up after taking a quick steadying breath.  _Tarkin_. Not good, but far better than the Emperor himself. She hated that Ashla had probably felt the rush of disgust at the mention of his name. She’d never liked Tarkin; from the first moment she’d met him inside the Citadel to his role in her trial. Now he was one of the Emperor’s most trusted officers, and far too influential within the Empire.

            “Well, he can’t use the force, so he won’t sense us. Does he do inspections or something?” she asked.

            “No, but we have to hide your ship,” he replied.

            “Won’t that look suspicious though?” she asked, following him out of the room. “His fleet knows we passed through their blockade. If it’s not here when he comes down, he’ll want to know where it went. Won’t he?”

            “Did Rex happen to tell you what the clearance codes you used meant?” They’d made it all the way out to the lava bridge by this point. Even with his mechanical limbs, he still had a longer stride than her. It made her still feel like a kid to be scurrying after him. Which was a weird, confusing feeling inside her head. In some ways, it was a welcome change to the years of having to be the adult and worrying about problems like how to raise a child more powerful than you could imagine. But on the other hand, it made the last fourteen years feel like they’d never happened, and she had far too many scars to forget now.

            “Yes,” she whispered, dropping her head. But even as she stared at the floor, she’d seen his sidelong glance. He stopped walking. “It was a one-way trip… to drop off a prisoner. Based on everyone’s response to it, I can only assume the prisoners that come here are survivors of the purge and that… and that they’re not just here for tea.”

            “Ahsoka, I…”

            “Please don’t,” she interrupted quickly. “I don’t want to think about it right now.” She took a deep breath. “Since Tarkin hadn’t come to investigate immediately, I’m assuming it’s common for the guards escorting said prisoner to not make it back either?”

            “Yes.” She hated the guilt in his voice, but at the same time, it eased her conscience somewhat that at least he was ashamed of the things he’d done. It didn’t change it, obviously, but it meant he wasn’t as lost as he could have been. “If those are the codes you used, he had no cause for alarm, but he’ll be bringing people with him to take the ship. I’m sure you’ve already realized that I’m intentionally stranded here until the Emperor has a need for my,  _er…_ talents.”

            “Yes, I’d gathered that.” She tried to work the snippiness back into her voice as she gestured around at the fortress of isolation. There were far too many things at stake for them to fall into their petty arguments from a lifetime ago, but sometimes being snippy made her feel more confident. Reminiscent of a time when she had control over her life. Now that she thought about it though… when had she ever had control over her life? And when had there not been too many things at stake? What the kriff had they really been doing out there? Still kids themselves, commanding armies, rescuing thousands of people, fighting a war that turned out to be just a game to one power hungry Sith lord… She turned around and barely registered what she was seeing as a flash ran past her. “Ashla, wait!” she called, racing after her.

            Either she was out of shape, or her daughter was far faster than even she was, because by the time she’d made it to the entrance of the fortress, Ashla was already running up the ramp to their ship. She was about to run after her when Anakin grabbed her arm and jerked her back. “Look!”

            “But!” She tried to free herself from his grip, but with the mechanical limbs, she couldn’t slip out so easily.

            “Ahsoka,” Anakin scolded, and she finally stopped fighting him.

            “You promised me she’d be safe.” She turned on him. “If Tarkin sees her...”

            “If Tarkin sees you, we’ll have bigger problems!” he said, pulling her back into the shadows of the entry way, as a shuttle landed on the platform between them and her ship. She looked up at him angrily and he finally released her. “He knows who  _you_  are, he doesn’t know who Ashla is. For all he’d know, I could be playing with my prisoner.”

            “I don’t care! I don’t want her face in their records.”

            “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do, but if we run out there after her, it will only look more suspicious. You don’t seem to understand what’s at stake here. As it is, my servant should be greeting the shuttle.” He paced around in front of her and she watched him warily. “The Emperor doesn’t trust me to behave. Not only do I have to report to him, everyone around me has to report to him too. I’m constantly being watched except when I’m here alone. If even the slightest thing seems out of place, it will get back to him directly. I don’t want Tarkin to see Ashla either, but I’d rather  _he_  see her than Sidious seeing her.”

            “Vaneé!” Tarkin called and he stopped pacing and froze.

            “Oh no...” he gave a raspy curse under his breath.

            “Grand Moff Tarkin,” came another voice and she furrowed her brow in confusion. It was Ashla, she knew that, but she sounded weird, like she was purposely disguising her voice. But then she nearly panicked. What the kriff was she doing? She moved to look around the corner, but he grabbed her again. She gave him a disgusted look and he let her go so she could peek.

            “Tell Lord Vader we’ve arrived,” Tarkin spat at her.

            “Yes, sir.” Ashla gave a bow and hurried towards them. She had somehow had enough time to grab a spare set of robes from Vaneé’s quarters and thrown them around her. Effectively hiding her face and slowly growing feminine form. She let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding as Ashla got closer to them. She looked past her and saw Tarkin direct several officers and a few stormtroopers onto their ship.  _Great, just great._

            “What the hell do you think you were doing?” she demanded, pulling Ashla into their hideout. “Risking exposure for what?”

            “I couldn’t let them take our ship!” she whispered, looking between them with her big blue eyes. Why was it so hard to be mad at her? 

            “Ashla...” she started, trying to pick her words carefully. She didn’t like to scold her, afraid to make the situation with her fears and insecurities so much worse. But sometimes... admittedly, she really tested her patience. “I know you’re scared, I’m scared too... but Tarkin... he’s dangerous. Risking him seeing you could have meant the end of everything we sacrificed to get here.”

            “That’s why I grabbed these robes!” Ashla replied stubbornly. Then she held up a small, seemingly insignificant part of the ship. “They’ll never get it started. And no diagnostic scan will tell them why.”

            “You little genius,” Anakin said suddenly, and she scowled at him. “But that was far too risky,” he added quickly. 

            They turned back to peer around the corner again when they heard Tarkin’s impatient voice. They watched him argue with some officers about the ship. 

            “I’d better go,” Anakin whispered. “If I wait too long, he’ll send other people here to get it.” She looked up at him, feeling a rush of disappointment. She’d been so focused on the ship issue, she hadn’t realized Tarkin coming meant he had to leave. Or that her and Ashla would be here in this horrible place alone. 

            She shivered suddenly, despite the fact that it was sweltering hot, the iciness of the dark side presence made the lava feel like snow drifts sometimes. He put his hand on her shoulder, a gesture he’d done a million times before to comfort her. This time didn’t put her at ease the same way though. Because whatever he was about to go do, she wouldn’t like and didn’t want to know. Which only served to compound her guilt that out of her love for him and need to be with him, she’d turn a blind eye to the atrocities he’d both already committed and could still commit. Maybe she’d been lying to herself about it not mattering to her. 

            “Be safe,” she breathed finally, willing herself not to cry again. How long could she ignore the aching pain ripping through her? How long could she pretend it was okay? “Try not to kill people, you know... if you don’t have to.” She dropped her chin hating that she even had to say it. Wherever he was going, whatever he was about to do... very possibly meant some of her Rebels were about to die or their fight would get a whole lot harder. If only she could warn them. But then again... that might get  _him_ killed. If he hadn’t of still been standing there, or if Ashla hadn’t been right there either, she might have just collapsed into a mess of emotions. 

            She’d known going in this would be difficult, but apparently, she’d deluded herself to what it would cost her.  _I’m doing this for Ashla... I’m here for her. If she doesn’t learn control, the whole galaxy could suffer a far worse fate._  She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. 

            She felt his fingers on her chin and he tipped her head back. Then he pulled her closer. “It’ll be okay, I promise.” She nodded as the tears welled in her eyes again. Then he set a hand gently on Ashla’s cheek. “We’ll work on your training when I return. Take care of your mother for me.”

            He turned and started walking away. “Dad!” Ashla said suddenly and he turned around. “Please come back...  _this time..._ ” She’d whispered the last two words so softly she doubted Anakin had even heard them, but for her, it had been a punch in the gut. Ashla had never had to live through seeing him leave and not come back, but somehow over the years, she’d internalized her own feelings of loss and mourning over what had torn them apart before. She clutched at her chest and slid down the wall to the ground, tipping her head back.

            Was this what it would be like every time he was called away? Was this how it would feel to wait and wonder and hope that each time he left wouldn’t be the last time she’d see him? If she’d known that was even a possibility when she’d hopped the shuttle to Mandalore, she would have hopped right back off. But now that it had happened once, it felt like it could happen every time. It felt like she’d be forced to relive the most soul wrenching pain imaginable every time he walked away. 

            Maybe she’d been foolish coming here. Maybe she should call Rex and beg him to come get them. This wasn’t going to end well. Maybe not for any of them. But even though running away was tempting, she knew it would hurt far more to be away from him again. She’d lived that reality for fourteen years, she couldn’t do it again. Somehow, she was going to have to pull herself together and get a grip. She had to learn to trust him again. She had to find that confidence she used to have.

            She looked up in time to see him nod to Ashla and she waved after him as he turned and strode towards Tarkin with a slight limp in his normally graceful gait. Maybe they were all broken. Maybe that’s all they’d ever been. At least when they were together, it felt like they weren’t missing pieces of themselves. 

            For the moment Ashla was focused on watching him leave, and hopefully she hadn’t noticed her breakdown. It was hard to be strong and seem unaffected by everything all the time and even when she managed to fake it, Ashla always saw right through it. From the earliest age she could, she’d tried to teach Ashla what Anakin had taught her. Not the lightsaber lessons, but how to process emotions, how to accept things, change your perspective on them. They’d have long talks at the end of the day whenever they were safe enough to do so. It was one of the ways Anakin had influenced her life the most. One she hadn’t even realized was so important until he wasn’t there anymore.

            Being raised as a Jedi, they were often taught to push aside their emotions and maybe it wasn’t meant to intentionally feel as though you were ignoring them but often felt that way anyways. Unprocessed emotions had been the silent killer to many of them. You lock everything away until there’s no room anymore and then you explode. Anakin had been the worst one that way. He hated sharing his feelings, he hated letting people in like that. He believed himself to be a failure or weak whenever they did come out. But in some kind of wisdom, he at least, of all the Jedi, understood how dangerous that really was and he went out of his way to force her to talk about her feelings.

            He’d ask her if she was afraid, or nervous, he’d ask her why. Through the course of their discussions, they’d get down to the root of those difficult emotions and then come up with ways to deal with them in tough situations. He never made her feel ashamed for feeling things even if the rest of the order frowned on any kind of emotional outburst. He’d told her time and time again that to feel things meant you were alive, to feel them strongly meant you cared and to not feel them meant you were nothing. It was most certainly not a Jedi way of thinking, but it had saved her sanity more times than she could count. Feeling anger and pain no longer felt like a slippery slope to the dark side, it just felt like another part of life. Being angry at injustice didn’t mean she was evil, it gave her purpose. The Jedi had always expected them to be detached, to not get invested in people’s lives. It was a mission, nothing more. But her and Anakin had seen more than anyone else how much worse it was to not care. And despite being raised in the order from a far younger age than himself, she preferred caring to not. Even if it hurt worse when they failed. 

            Every failure only motivated them more. Every failure made them try harder next time. And maybe that’s why they’d both ended up too reckless for Jedi sensibilities, but at the end of the day, she’d felt satisfied that they’d made a far bigger difference than they would have otherwise and that had carried her through. After believing she lost Anakin, she’d gone numb for almost a year. She’d cared only about her daughter, barely even herself. She’d done nothing for anybody, keeping her head down and focusing solely on their own problems. She’d allowed herself to turn a blind eye to what the new Empire was doing everywhere they invaded, rationalizing that indifference;  _there was nothing she could do alone, she had a child to protect, she’d endanger them further by revealing her identity_ , and so on… It had become so easy to come up with excuses not to care. 

            And then she’d landed on Raada, running from yet another Imperial inspection. A little moon she’d never heard of before, sparsely populated by a small farming community. It had seemed like the perfect sanctuary. She’d kept to herself, she’d tried to keep her head down and stay out of the locals’ lives, but one girl had taken a liking to her, trying so hard to befriend her despite all her objections. And try as she might, when the Imperials invaded there too… she’d been forced into caring yet again. To protect Ashla, and the villagers, she’d rejoined the fight. Because she was the only one that could protect them from the inquisitor. She could have run away, but the idea of letting him slaughter everyone had iced her veins. Then had come the call of the crystals he’d carried, and she’d known… she couldn’t run from the force. She couldn’t hide from who she was no matter how hard she tried. 

            Learning to care again when the odds had been mounted against her, had been no easy feat. But every day she’d told herself it was what Anakin would have wanted her to do. It became almost a religious ritual as a way to honor his sacrifice; that everything he’d taught her hadn’t been in vain. A way to keep him alive even if nobody knew why she cared to so much. And someday, she’d hoped to instill that into their daughter.

            She glanced at Ashla who was still watching him. Without really opening her senses, she could feel her anticipation and anxiety. Despite her fears about coming here, she’d already gotten attached to him and based on his goodbye to her, he’d already gotten attached too. 

            She pulled herself to her feet and glanced around the corner in time to see him disappear into Tarkin’s shuttle and the ramp close behind him. The weight landed on her chest again. At the end of the day… had anything she’d done really mattered? She’d already felt as though she’d been fighting insurmountable odds as she’d tried to pull together Bail’s rebellion and turn it into something that had a chance. Now knowing that the person she’d been honoring every day in doing so, was one of the main reasons they’d failed to make much difference at all… 

            She watched the shuttle disappear into the clouds and shook herself, moving determinedly towards their ship. She couldn’t think about it anymore. She was going to go crazy. She’d been so blinded by her love for him that now she couldn’t stop questioning everything. She still loved him, but could it continue to blind her? Could she feign ignorance? Could she survive the dichotomy that wormed its way into her heart, threatening to split it into two? If she somehow succeeded in getting him on the rebellion’s side, would that make up for it? Would it change what happened? Could she forgive it? Maybe she didn’t really want to know the answer to that.

            “Mom?” Ashla called after her, scurrying to catch up. “Where are you going?”

            “Help me unload the ship,” she said instead of giving her an answer she deserved. 

            “But they can’t take it, I disabled it.”

            “Ashla, there’s more than one way to take a ship.” She spun on her, not intending to sound mean, but apparently her attempt to pull herself together had forced the soft way she talked to her into hiding for now. “We have no way of knowing how long before he comes back or sends someone to get it, so if we want what’s on it, we need to unload it now!”

            “Okay...” Ashla whispered, dropping her head. She should probably apologize to her, but she was too tense to do so right now. Ashla had enough to worry about, and enough of her own doubts about the situation, she didn’t need to compound it by snapping at her. But try as she might, she couldn’t work the calm back into her soul and in annoyance, turned back towards the ship without saying anything at all. 

            It was early morning, she’d slept better than she’d expected but after so many years of not sleeping well at all, it had hardly been enough to make her feel rejuvenated. Especially when she’d woken with a start and he hadn’t been there anymore. She’d run first to Ashla’s room, which had also been empty and was nearing a full-blown panic by the time she’d made it to the throne room, only to see them sitting there talking. She’d been glad to see them bonding, but she was so draped in insecurities lately, her brain had leapt immediately to worse case scenarios. 

            Now she was throwing all her focus into the task of cleansing the ship of anything that could be traced back to her, while still wandering around in her nightgown and trying not to collapse into tears again. 

            She hated the idea of losing the ship probably as much if not more than Ashla, because it was her only connection to the outside world right now; to Bail, to the rebellion, to Rex...  _to hope_...

            Losing the ship meant they were stranded behind enemy lines. And even though she knew she’d be far safer with Anakin right now, than anywhere else in the galaxy, there was some fear about being here with him too. It was one she was desperately trying not to acknowledge at the moment as she frantically linked crates together and floated them out of the ship and across the landing platform into the fortress, stacking them right inside the door for now. 

            She’d been right at least, about him still being inside that awful suit, but despite everything they’d shared since she’d arrived, she still felt a difference in him. He wasn’t the same Anakin she’d known, loved and trusted. Most of him was still there, and that wasn’t even in reference to the state of his physical body. Time had changed him, circumstances had changed him, the darkness had changed him... And whether she wanted to admit it or not, the damage wasn’t repairable. What was done had been done, there was no going back. They could only go forward from here. She was grateful though, that at least Anakin was still alive in there.  _Her_  Anakin; the one she’d always known. But then there were times she’d look at him and it felt like she didn’t know him at all. 

            She looked up in time to barely stop the four crates she’d been pushing from ramming into Ashla. “Mom?” Her daughter looked up at her, setting her hands lightly on the other end of the crates. 

            “What is it, Ashla?” she said dismissively. “We need to finish this then we can talk.”

            Ashla straightened and crossed her arms, scowling in a way that reminded her far too much of Anakin whenever he’d disapproved of her behavior. “You knew before we got here that it was a one-way trip,” she said finally. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to strand us here? Especially since you didn’t even know if we’d survive it?”

            “We’ll talk about it later,” she said, trying to maneuver the crates around her daughter and keep pushing them towards the fortress. She didn’t want to talk about it right now. Because talking about it meant she might slip up and tell Ashla her original plan had been to drop her off with Anakin and leave. Which was horrific to think, let alone admit aloud. But to be honest, from the moment she’d found out about the purge and the control chips and then that any force users would be hunted down... she’d feared enough for her own life, to be compounded by the fear of dragging around a child that couldn’t control power beyond her own imagining... _well_... She squeezed her eyes shut when Ashla stepped in front of the crates again. 

            She was losing control, everything was falling apart. She couldn’t handle it anymore. She couldn’t see straight, she couldn’t think straight, she could barely even breathe. Finding out her best friend, former lover, her accidental husband, her master... had turned evil; turned into the very thing they’d fought throughout the war... it had been the last straw. Until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to her she could break more than she already had. 

            Anakin had saved her life more times than she could count, and that wasn’t even during the war. He’d been a light to her, shining so bright, she couldn’t help the magnetism of his energy. She’d been a loner, no friends, overlooked. No matter how hard she worked for peoples’ approval, nobody paid much attention to her. She’d often spent hours wandering the halls by herself, listening but never talking. She’d repeatedly found herself drawn to him, not that he’d ever noticed. She’d follow him through the temple, she’d hidden in the library and studied him more than books. She’d listened to the sound of his voice, watched the way he talked to people. No matter how hard she’d tried to escape it, her feet had always led her back to him. 

            He’d always looked so sad, so lonely. He’d walked around with his head bowed. He’d stayed quiet while master Kenobi prattled on about this or that. He’d stare at the floor like it was all he had. Yet despite his sorrow, he’d lit up the force every time he was nearby. She’d loved to watch him practice and train, she’d admired his graceful moves, his power and his discipline. She’d studied him and tried her best to emulate it. And it was through studying him that she’d become the top of her class with her lightsaber. 

            But it was his  _light_  that had drawn her. She was fascinated by the prophecy, of what being the chosen one meant. Like every other youngling, they’d longed for the day that it would all become clear. When he’d been knighted, and the war had started... and rumors had spread of his prowess, she’d gotten even more excited. The opportunity to witness something so rare… something unfolding that you could only ever dream about… it had been so alluring she hadn’t been able to stay away. And then she’d been assigned to him and thought she’d have a front row seat to the spectacle, only to find something completely unexpected; what had made him great wasn’t his lightsaber skills or his power in the force, it was his ability to love. But like fire, though often pleasant and warm, it could be dangerous, unpredictable and most definitely burn you if you got too close. And maybe that’s exactly what it had done. She’d been playing with fire.  _The singed leaf_ …

            She sighed. Those days were gone. Whatever he’d been, whatever  _they’d_  been... was gone. Though remnants of her Anakin remained, that light was gone. The one she’d followed for years, the one that always kept her moving forward; kept her running back. It had been replaced by a void of nothingness, like the vacuum of space; expansive, empty and dark. 

            Her fingers curled into a fist. She wanted to destroy whatever had stolen that light from him, and from her. 

            “Mom!” Ashla shouted and she started. She looked around blankly for a moment and then the red receded and her daughter came into focus in front of her. She looked scared, which panicked her, and she glanced around for the danger, but seeing none, she turned back to her in confusion. Only then did she see it. All four crates that had been neatly piled in front of her were turned on their sides with all their contents spilling out. 

            She stared at them a moment longer and then looked back at Ashla. “Did I do that?”

            “You don’t remember?” Ashla asked nervously, a tremor in her voice as she took a step backwards. 

            She couldn’t think of anything to say so she just bent over and started repacking the crates with trembling hands. It hadn’t once occurred to her that the darkness here could hurt her too. Well, she’d known the whole experience would hurt, but she hadn’t thought it could corrupt her. Based on Ashla’s reaction, apparently that wasn’t true. 

            She tried to calm her racing heart as she focused on her task. Maybe everything that was washing over her was just the influence of the dark side. Maybe she wasn’t as lost or hopeless as it felt. Admittedly she’d never been somewhere so steeped in the madness long enough to know if it could create the paranoia and oceans-deep sorrow just by prolonged exposure. But if that were true, then there wouldn’t have been anything left of Anakin, would there be? Unless of course, he was far stronger than she was in resisting it.

            “Mom?” Ashla whispered hesitantly and she looked up at her again.

            “I’m fine.” She waved her hand in hopes of discouraging Ashla from asking more questions. “I just got a little lost in thought. Take these last few crates inside while I wipe the ship’s memory and fuel logs.”

            “I know what you think you’re doing,” Ashla said, and she turned around again. “I know you’ve missed him, and you wanted to come back to him. I know you think everything’s going to be okay, and that you’re going to fix it for him. But has it occurred to you that maybe you can’t fix it?”

            “Of course I can,” she started, but Ashla shook her head and then crossed her arms, taking the stance of someone that knew they were right and was going to make sure you knew it too.

            “No matter what awful things happened, no matter what caused it all to fall apart, Dad made a choice. And maybe he didn’t think he had much of one at the time, but he still made the choice to turn and he still made the choice every day to stay there instead of fight it.”

            “Ashla, I’ve told you a million times, your father was...  _is_  a good man...” she said defensively. “But even good people make mistakes.”

            “Good people make mistakes, repeatedly, for fourteen years?” Ashla huffed and put her hands on her hips.

            “We don’t have time to argue about this, now take those crates inside and let it go,” she ordered. Ashla scowled at her, but she turned her back and continued towards the ship.

            “I want him more than you,” Ashla said and it startled her so much she froze. “I’ve dreamt of knowing my father for as long as I can remember. Sometimes I think that doll of him you made me came to life, he’d sit there with me, he’d talk to me. He’d tell me stories about the different planets and his adventures among the stars. He’d tell me every day that no matter how dark it seemed, I could always find the light inside me. Then he’d kiss me on the forehead and he’d wish me sweet dreams.” She turned around to look at Ashla who had dropped her head and was staring at the landing platform with tears welling in her eyes. “And every night I’d go to bed wishing and hoping for just one chance to meet him. To talk to him for real. The thing is, if what he said was true, there’s no way for us to save him. We can’t unmake those choices. We can’t undo what’s been done. We can try and try and try and never succeed. Dad made the choice that got him into this mess. Please don’t make the same choice.” 

            Ashla turned on her heels, grabbed the last few crates and pushed them towards the fortress entrance. She watched her go in stunned silence. How could she have been so stupid? From the moment she’d found out Anakin was still alive, she’d done everything possible to come running back to him. Expecting to find the Anakin she’d always known, the one that had always lit her path. But Anakin didn’t carry that light anymore, Ashla did. She’d had it all along and she’d been too blind to see it. 

            “Mother of the year award goes to me,” she sighed and rolled her eyes. Then she headed into the ship to do one last sweep, and to delete all their records and logs after sending one last message to Rex to let him know they were going dark. Hopefully not literally. 

            Satisfied Tarkin and his imperials would find no trace that linked the ship to them, she shuffled dejectedly back towards the fortress and not a moment too soon. 

            Within minutes of slipping inside, she heard the unmistakable rumbling of an approaching ship and dared to peek back outside. Watching in disappointment as the new ship hovered over hers, attached and then took off taking theirs with it. 

            “Well... I guess this is home now.” She turned back towards the pile of crates. “I guess we just have to make the best of it. But first...”

            She strode towards the air chamber and waited to go inside. Then she gathered the pile of Sith artifacts, trying to ignore the whispering darkness and burning pain as she carried them back out to the lava bridge and dropped them one by one over the edge.

            “Trust me, Anakin, we’re  _all_  better off without them.” Ashla’s words still ran laps around her brain as she watched them disappear beneath the molten waves. Maybe her daughter was right... she’d spent so many years thinking she could save him, and then living in utter devastation when she’d heard about his death. But maybe she shouldn’t have tried to save him, maybe she should have taught him how to save himself. Which ironically, sounded much harder. 

            She supposed she could start by showing him what he’d been missing.


	9. Destiny

          A week passed in frustrated impatience. He’d never been more relieved to be headed back to his fortress on Mustafar. Every moment he was alone, he found himself begging the force they’d still be there when he returned.

          His task had been to flush out a rebel cell believed to be hiding on Coyerti, possibly linked to the greater rebellion. He’d done his best to instill fear in them, but at the moment of decision, he’d let them get away. He knew he’d be punished for it. He knew Sidious would question him; he knew he was risking all of them by not killing them when he had the chance. But right when he’d been about to, he’d heard Ahsoka’s voice in his head, he’d felt her pain, he’d thought of their daughter… and he’d dropped his hand.

          He stopped on the landing platform and looked around in disappointment. Their ship was gone. He felt a sinking feeling. She’d convinced him he hadn’t imagined it, but had they left? Had they been forced to run away? Had they changed their mind about being there?

          He looked up in surprise when his servant hobbled out of the entrance towards him. Maybe he really  _had_  imagined it after all. “My lord,” Vaneé bowed in front of him. “Shall I prepare the bacta tank for you?”

          “No,” he said quickly. 

          “But you’ve gone a week without it…”

          “Well it can wait awhile longer.” He swept past his servant, ignoring his protests. The only thing he wanted right now was to be alone. The shuttle that had dropped him off disappeared as he headed inside. He crossed the bridge feeling more and more angry until he stopped inside his throne room and stared around in surprise. It was full of color; rugs of fur patterned the floor, banners depicting hunts and symbolic rituals hung around the room. Several furs draped over his chair itself, and there was more furniture there as well. 

          “Dad!” Ashla exclaimed in excitement, running to greet him from the other room. He smiled when she got to him, but then felt a rush of emotion. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been greeted with excitement. “Are you okay?” she asked, looking up at him in concern. She’d looked like she wanted to hug him but had decided against it when she was finally close enough. Maybe it was just as well for now, they hardly knew each other and in a strange way, he wanted to earn her affection. 

          “Yes, I’m fine,” he said, swallowing anything that contradicted that statement. “That’s just going to take some getting used to.”

          “Being called Dad?” she asked nervously.

          “Yes, but also being greeted.”

          “Oh  _uh,_ ” she shifted again like she wanted to reach out to him, but again changed her mind.

          “It looks like you two were busy while I was gone.” He gestured to the room around him.

          She lit up. “Do you like it? It feels almost homey now. Vaneé helped.”

          “Are you sure letting him out was a good idea?”

          “He promised he wouldn’t tell the Emperor,” she said quickly, as though hoping he wasn’t about to reprimand her. She sounded so earnest, he didn’t want to ruin the moment, but how could she put so much faith in someone who was loyal to Sidious?

          “I’m sure he did.” He crossed his arms. “But he could have just been saying that, so you’d let him out.”

          “I believe him.” Her comment sounded almost dismissive as though  _she_  were the parent telling the child she knew better than them and it was the end of the discussion. It reminded him a bit too much of Ahsoka, he was suddenly sure both of them were going to dictate his entire life from here on out. Though considering where he’d ended up without her guidance, perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing. 

          “I hope you’re right,” he said finally.

          “You should have more faith in people,” Ashla chided and he studied her for a moment. How was it possible that she could grow up in such a tumultuous time, during such pain and oppression, having been on the run for most of her life and still see good in people? The only explanation for that had to be Ahsoka.

          “I used to,” he admitted, feeling as though it were impossible now. “But I think I’ve forgotten how.” He certainly wanted to have it in his child and his wife. For just a moment it felt weird thinking about Ahsoka as his wife. Or at least referring to her that way. Then again, it felt right and it felt good. 

          “Well then I’ll remind you,” Ashla said, finally getting over her fear and throwing her arms around him. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the pressure through the thick fabric of his suit. He suddenly really needed Ahsoka.

          He looked up when he sensed her.  _Speaking of..._ She was leaning against the door frame that led to the air chamber and Ashla’s bedroom. She wasn’t smiling exactly, but she seemed to be in a much better mood than when he’d left. And he had the sudden urge to run to her. 

          They had so much missing time to make up. He needed to hold her, to talk to her, to feel her, just to be okay again. And as quickly as he’d become enamored with their daughter, and as much as he wanted to get to know her, he needed Ahsoka right now more. 

          “We’ll catch up later, Ashla,” he said, patting her on the shoulder distractedly. “Your mother and I need to talk first.”

          “Oh,” she sounded disappointed and he instantly felt guilty. But then he saw her glance towards Ahsoka and back at him. “ _Oh..._ ” he wasn’t sure he liked the way she said that the second time. Was it really that obvious what he wanted? “Well uh, have fun  _talking_.” She slipped past him and disappeared towards the entrance, presumably to go find Vaneé. 

          All other thoughts escaped his brain once he was standing in front of Ahsoka again. She looked up at him and gave a sultry smile and pretty soon he was chasing her into the air chamber, well as fast as he could run with his stupid mechanical limbs and bulky suit.

          As soon as the chamber was sealed, she was taking off his helmet. “Ahsoka,” he breathed into her skin. He never hated his situation more than he did right then. He wanted to give her everything she deserved, but instead she was stuck with half a man and a million pounds of baggage. He had no idea why she was willing to put up with so much, but if there was one thing, he could still be grateful for, it was that. “When I didn’t see your ship…” He dropped his head. “I thought you’d left…”

          “I told you we’d be here,” she said softly, unlatching the neck guard and tipping his chin up. “What will it take to make you believe in me again?”

          “I do believe in you,” he said. Then he sighed and sat down on the pile of furs. “But so much has happened since and…” She sat down next to him and took his gloved hand in hers. He couldn’t feel gestures like that anymore, not physically anyways, but it held just as much power in the force as it would have if he could physically feel it. “Ahsoka…”           

          Just saying her name brought back so many emotions and so many memories. How many times he’d cried for her, mourned her, wished for her. How many times she’d haunted him in nightmares and in the force, questioning everything he’d become; making him hate everything that much more. How many times he’d held her lightsabers in his hand just to feel something other than darkness again.

          “I don’t know what I am anymore.” He saw her squeeze his mechanical hand tighter and for a split second, he could have sworn he felt it. Maybe he was just experiencing the memory of it.

          She stood up and stepped between his legs, taking his face in her hands. Every touch felt so soft and good. He’d missed touching her the most. Touch was a way he’d learned to remind himself that people were real. Which sounded like a crazy man just wanting one tiny fragment of sanity. But after losing his mother, and countless clones... it became a way to root himself. And strangely, or not so strangely now that he thought about it, Ahsoka had become the one that grounded him the most. Whenever he was scared, afraid or even just unsure, whenever he needed any kind of reassurance, he’d reached for her. And she’d always been there. At least until she wasn’t. 

          She ran her hands gently across the scars, tracing them with her fingertips and her eyes. She seemed solemn but not angry or disappointed, she just touched him in her special loving way she’d always done. “Then let me remind you,” she whispered finally and he tipped his head back to look at her face. She bent down and kissed him on the top of his head. “Your name is Anakin Skywalker.” She moved her lips down to his forehead. “You are a Jedi Knight. A master, in my book. You had a padawan named Ahsoka Tano...”

          “Skywalker,” he interrupted. She looked at him in confusion. “You’re my wife, right? So your last name would be Skywalker. Assuming you wanted my name. You’d wear it better than me anyways.” He looked away when he remembered that Padmé could never take it since their marriage had been a secret. Though now he suspected she’d never have taken it even if she could.

          “Ahsoka _Skywalker_ ,” she murmured sounding somewhat wistful and he watched her eyes change. There was something about the way she’d said it, or even the way she’d reacted to it, that lit a fire in his heart, spreading warmth throughout his body. She blinked finally and looked back at his face. “Anakin and Ahsoka Skywalker. And their daughter Ashla Skywalker.” He reached around her waist and pulled her closer, leaning his head against her abdomen. 

          “It’s yours if you want it,” he choked. “It’s all I have left to give you.”

          “You’re wrong,” she said after a moment. “You’ve given me everything. You still do.” 

          “You deserve so much more than this. You both do.”

          “Maybe,” she whispered. “Maybe not.” She stepped outside his legs and sat down on his knees when he pulled them together for her and looked him over. _God, she was so beautiful_. “But even if there was a way to determine accurately what people deserved or didn’t deserve, I wouldn’t care. Because no matter what, I would always choose you.” She undid the chain and let his cape fall away, then she removed his shoulder guards and leaned her head against him. He felt her hands, just enough pressure through the fabric as they slid up either side of the control panel on his chest. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

          “What about Bonteri?” he tried to tease her, in order to dispel his rising heat and need. For some reason the slow particular way she was choosing to touch him was almost hotter than the fast, hunger fueled way they’d often shared.

          “Lux was kind of cute.” He couldn't see her face, but knew she’d smiled. He watched her fingers play with the edge of his robe. “And he was polite and sweet...”

          “Okay, okay,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. 

          “But there was one thing he never had, that you did.”

          “Only one thing?” He raised a brow, though he wondered why he’d bothered, she still hadn’t looked up from where she was leaning on his shoulder. 

          “Okay, a lot of things, but one major thing,” she laughed.

          “What was that?”

          “My heart.” She finally lifted her head and he instantly got lost in her eyes. “I couldn’t give it to him, even if I wanted to. Because you had it. You’ve always had it. From the very beginning.”

          He ran his hands up her side, then up to her face. “I thought I’d given mine to Padmé,” he whispered. “But instead, I’d locked it away in the deepest, darkest dungeon. And then one day I looked up and saw that you were holding it. I didn’t know how you got it out, or even why you went after it, but I knew in that moment it belonged only to you.” 

          She smiled at him and he pulled her into a kiss. He savored the feel of her soft, dark lips against his. Trying to remember better things, when they had the whole world ahead of them. He breathed in her smell, memorizing all of it. He opened up, letting her dust away the cobwebs in all the corners of his soul. She’d come home. She’d turned the lights back on. He could feel his heart again and it ached. It ached for her, for their past and their future. It ached for everything they’d lost and everything they still had. 

          “I couldn’t kill them,” he confessed, dropping his head again. “The rebels. I let them get away. The emperor is going to find out. I put us all in danger.”

          She stroked his cheek softly. “You’re remembering who you are, Anakin.” She tipped his chin up again. “You’re remembering what made you powerful. Of course he won’t like that. But I’d rather face him with you, the _real_ you, than have an easy life, free of fear.”

          “You don’t understand what he’s like, Ahsoka. It’s more terrible than you can imagine. He’s had years to plan this. He orchestrated everything. No matter how powerful the Jedi were, we all fell right into his trap. I don’t think we can fight him. I don’t think we can win.”

          “Do you remember what you told me on Zygerria? When I asked you why being a slave was so terrible?” she asked. “What did you say to me? How did you respond?”

          “I told you that slavery was a state of mind; a sense of hopelessness that nothing you do will ever matter or belong only to you,” he sighed. “They break you down, make you believe you’re nothing without them. Make you grateful for their cruel treatment. Make you feel powerless and dependent on them for everything.”

          “And do you remember what I said after that? Like I knew what I was talking about?” 

          “Yeah,” he laughed at the memory of her stubborn face and optimistic way she’d been so sure she understood the way it worked. The way she always was. _God he’d missed that too_. Back when the world seemed so much simpler. “You told me if it’s a state of mind, you can just snap out of it.”

          She gave him a bit of a mischievous grin and then pushed him backwards so he fell onto the furs. “So, snap out of it,” she whispered, as her lips found his jaw, then his neck. Waves of excitement were rippling from her hot breath. “You’re the chosen one, Anakin.” She tugged at his vest, trying to find more bare skin to kiss. “You’re the most powerful Jedi anybody has seen in a thousand years. But he made you feel powerless. Hopeless. Weak.” She unhooked his control panel, carefully disconnected it from his chest and pulled the vest over his head after pulling off his gloves. “You’re anything but weak.” She kissed her way down his chest, and he bit his lip hard. “He couldn’t kill Anakin, no matter how hard he tried. That makes you far more powerful than him. Use that power. Use it to fight him.”

          “But...”

          “I’ll be right beside you.” Her tongue was driving him wild as she kissed and licked interesting patterns all over his chest. “Show me your power.”

          “There’s no way I can return to the light, Ahsoka,” he grunted, it turning more into a groan. “I’ve done too many horrible things.”

          She sat back and it was all he could do not to pull her back out of disappointment. “You’re the Chosen One…”

          “So I’ve been told.” He brought his hands up and rubbed his face in annoyance, staring up at the ceiling. He didn’t want to let her down, but he doubted even if he was some mythical chosen… it was too late now. He’d already failed. According to Obi wan anyways. According to all the Jedi. They’d all believed he would save them, but he’d sided with the Chancellor at the critical moment and they’d been nearly wiped out. And the ones that hadn’t were being hunted by the very people _he_ had trained. Ahsoka knew that, so why did she still believe that title would change anything? She didn’t say anything for so long he finally moved his hands to look at her. She had her head tipped to the side, watching him, but also staring through him. To be perfectly honest, it unnerved him a bit. What was she thinking? Was she disappointed? Had he just shattered her beliefs? Had she suddenly changed her mind about wanting him? She made no moves to get off, she simply balanced there on his knees, her hands on his upper thighs, but not moving. “I was never good at being a Jedi,” he said quickly, suddenly needing to fill the silence. To explain. To make her understand. “If I was supposed to save them, why was I terrible at it?”

          Her eyes changed as she focused on his face once again. “Maybe you weren’t meant to be a Jedi,” she whispered.

          “But…” She moved her hands back to his chest and leaned over him again and he fell silent.

          “Think about it, Anakin.” She kissed him softly on the lips and then sat up again. “If the Chosen One was meant to be a Jedi, it could have picked a better… _well_ … Jedi.”

          “Hey,” he muttered as though her words hurt. Maybe they did hurt a little, but it hurt more to hear her say it than to tell himself it.

          She gave him a teasing smile and kissed his chest again, moving back down as though to continue where they’d left off. She undid his belt and threw it aside. “The Chosen One was to bring balance to the force, right?”

          “Yes,” he groaned, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as he enjoyed the way she moved her lips across his skin.

          “The Jedi believed that meant you would kill all the Sith and tip the scale back to the light. But there were ten thousand Jedi, and only two Sith. Maybe more than two, but still nowhere the number of them as there were Jedi. So why would that mean tipping the scale back to the light? If anything-”

          “Please don’t say it,” he interrupted. She stopped again. And again he looked at her in disappointment.

          “Don’t say what?”

          “Don’t say I was meant to fall. Don’t tell me that all of this was my destiny. Because if it was, I don’t want it. I don’t want it at all. I’d rather die than believe I was meant to become this.”

          She scooted up so she was straddling his stomach instead of his legs and put a finger to his lips. “But this, isn’t all you are, Anakin. You are so much more than one or the other. Has it ever occurred to you, that maybe the only way you can fulfill your destiny as the Chosen One, is by being both?”

          “Well, er…”

          “How can you bring balance to the force without first _becoming_ balance?” She stroked his cheek. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned since that awful day… it’s that life is way more complicated than light and dark. That most of the decisions outside of the temple away from the order, carried parts of both. That it was never, ever as simple as the Jedi made us believe. I brought Ashla here because I knew you could help her, not because I wanted her to turn evil, but because I’d done all I could to show her the light and it wasn’t enough. To control her powers, she needs to know both sides. Maybe it’s the same for the rest of us?”

          “Do you really think it’s possible to walk that line?”

          “Yes.” She patted him softly on his shoulder. “But first you have to get over the idea that one is right, and one is wrong. Maybe there’s right and wrong in both of them.”


	10. Collide

          She traced her fingers across his chest even though he was asleep now. Admittedly, she hated seeing him like this. It wasn’t that she loved him any less, because that definitely wasn’t the case. She didn’t even care about his missing limbs or his physical appearance other than it hurt her heart to see the damage life had caused him. It just wasn’t fair! None of it was fair!

          She’d tried so hard, for so long, not to think about what was fair and what wasn’t. She’d tried never to wonder why any of them had to suffer. She’d tried to accept that it was a trial of some kind and she’d rise above. That the force was guiding them through all of it for a reason. But being reunited with Anakin, though she was eternally grateful he was still alive, had forced her to question all the things she’d never allowed herself to ask before. Why? Why him? Why her? Why any of them?

          She’d meant what she’d said to him, about maybe all of this was part of his destiny, but it didn’t make it hurt less. She knew Anakin lived there, in that broken body.  _Her_  Anakin. No matter what life had thrown at him, the Emperor hadn’t killed him off; he hadn’t enslaved him completely. But whether she liked it or not, she knew he was right about his master. She’d been fighting his tyranny for fourteen years. Even with the growing rebellion, coordinated attacks, inside men… they just weren’t making enough of a difference. It was as though the Emperor always knew their every move, that he’d somehow planned for every contingency. How do you fight that kind of foresight?

          She leaned down and kissed his skin again. As rough as it was, she still wanted to touch it. Maybe somewhere in her tired and rattled brain, she believed or hoped that she could heal him with her fingers, and her lips. He was a tactile person; it was one of the many ways they were alike. She shook her head when she thought about how hard it had been in the beginning of their relationship. Until she’d been assigned to him, she’d only been around Jedi that kept emotional and physical distance from each other. Though she’d hated it, she’d gotten used to that. Or at least she’d thought she had until she was faced with one that wasn’t that way.

          At first, his need to touch her, whether a quick squeeze on the shoulder, a hug, or occasionally holding her hand for a moment, had been weird. Sometimes it had made her want to pull away. Sometimes it had made her jump. But not only had those touches felt good, she’d figured out pretty quickly that it was something he  _needed_  to do. Something that grounded him somehow, gave him strength or purpose. Sometimes she’d wondered if he was afraid that people would just evaporate in front of him if he didn’t touch them and assure himself they were really there.

          She’d never asked him why he did it. It had been one of those forbidden topics. The ones that without him ever saying, she saw the answer in his eyes; or rather that he  _wouldn’t_ answer. Sometimes she wondered how much she’d really known at all. She could feel so much from him, the vastness of pain, feeling and love. But there were details about his life she didn’t know, about his past.

          She knew there was no way she could have prevented what happened when they’d been torn apart, but she still wondered, day in and day out, especially after being reunited with him here… if she’d known more… if she’d pushed a little harder… could she have saved him from this path? Or worse, had he already been walking it before she’d even met him and she’d never known?

          Frustrated with herself, and too restless to sleep, she kissed his skin one last time and got to her feet. Their passion had only quenched a small serving of her listless soul. Twenty times over probably wouldn’t even be enough. As it was, she felt a little guilty she’d stolen him right out from under their daughter, but she’d needed action, and release. She left the air chamber, checked on Ashla and then walked softly to the entrance of the fortress and looked up at the stars. She didn’t like it here. This place was driving her crazy. Even after removing the Sith artifacts, it was shadowed so heavily in darkness. Nothing good had happened here; nothing but torture, fear, loss, anger.

          The landscape was unforgiving and nearly impassable. The sweltering heat was miserable even inside. There were no plants, no animals. Nothing to hunt. Nowhere to run. No way to stretch or breathe. It hurt, but she would stay here. She would stay with him, no matter what. 

          She blinked at the intensity of the lava eruption across the valley, stepping backwards as a couple drops splattered across the landing platform and sizzled a few meters from her barefeet. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to find a small ounce of light in this miserable place; something good to hold onto. She had no reason to suspect that the Emperor knew her and Ashla were there. She hadn’t expressed her doubts that Vaneé would keep his word. Her daughter wanted to trust him, and so did she. Unfortunately though, she’d been through too much since the purge to completely have faith in anyone anymore.

          She found herself out here a lot, staring up at the stars; thinking, wondering, hurting... There was a bad feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. Though there was no evidence to back it up, she was certain that Emperor Palpatine knew she was here. But if he did, he’d had all week to do something about it while Anakin had been gone. They were sitting targets here. Even with as powerful as she was and as instinctual Ashla’s ability, they’d have no chance if they were invaded. Why let them stay?

 _Unless..._ She rubbed her arms at the sudden chill despite the molten lava that bubbled all around her. Did he know enough about her people to know they were wild? Did he know that being stranded here would cause her all sorts of suffering? Did he hope to weaken her by letting her stay? She paced around a bit, tired of this constant flow of thoughts she couldn’t ebb. 

          Could her restlessness turn her? Or her fear and doubts? While Anakin was close, she felt better. But even he, as powerful as he is, didn’t believe they had a chance. There was nobody more powerful than him; that’s what the prophecy had said anyways. If he can’t fight him, who can? The only thing she knew for sure was that his role as the Chosen One, or his purpose or destiny, hadn’t ended with the fall of the Jedi or his turn to the dark side. There was more he was meant to do. 

          She knelt down on the hard metal, ignoring the heat that wasn’t dampened in the least by the thin fabric of her nightgown. She reached deep inside herself, searching for answers. For anything. But her mind wandered to her parents on Shili. On how happy they’d been to see her again, to meet their granddaughter. When she’d told her mother about Anakin, she’d cried with her; holding her tight in her arms. When she’d told her that she was coming here, to Mustafar, her mother had said... she furrowed her brow. What had her mother said to her? At the time it had hit her like a thermal detonator, but now it felt like it was floating just out of reach. 

          She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, ignoring the tears that slipped down her cheeks as she remembered the way she’d cried. All at once, Yadigan’s words floated back into her brain;  _you’ve been asked to walk a difficult path, my child. But you were born to face it_. She’d finally told her mother about the vision cave. She’d told her about the singed leaf. She’d told her what had happened to Anakin. That the tree had shown them this and she’d failed to change it. 

          And that was when her mother had disappeared inside the hut and come back out holding a tightly bound notebook of leather. She’d watched in nervous anticipation as she’d slowly unwrapped it in front of her. Pressed between two pages were the leaves from the vision cave. They were exactly like she’d last seen them; hers glowed slightly but one quarter of it had been badly singed. His was burnt until it was crispy and brittle. 

          Without really thinking, she’d reached out to touch her leaf, but instead she’d set her hand down on his; knowing that the action would break the fragile leaf. She’d felt a rush of pain crash through her so hard as though she herself had been set on fire, but for whatever reason she’d resisted the urge to pull her hand away. She’d suffered through it, tears streaming down her face while it felt as though her skin was being melted off. She’d heard him crying, reverberating in her head as though it had come from every side. When the shock from the pain had receded, she’d felt something else rise up inside her. Something lighter, something hopeful, something good. 

          It was in that moment she’d decided her and Ashla were going to Mustafar, no matter what the cost. Because in him, she’d felt herself. And if she still lived in him, then it meant that while he might have singed her, she too had given him something that day. She’d removed her hand to find that even in the burnt and crispy leaf, there was light. It had started from the center, spiraling out in the same pattern as hers. Until that moment, she’d believed her desire to return to him was for selfish reasons; a deep-seated need, nothing could rip from her. But her mother had said she was born to walk this path. He needed  _her_.

          She stood up suddenly. All this time she’d been so focused on the way he had burned her. But he hadn’t. Her leaf had reached to his. She’d seen it clear as day. He hadn’t burned her; she’d willingly exchanged some of her light for some of his darkness.  _Daark’a, ashla, grriva._

          The elder hadn’t been telling them to choose one. She’d been telling them they each  _were_  one. Anakin had been corrupted by the son on Mortis, but even before that, he’d swelled with darkness and pain. It wasn’t that he wasn’t good, but when it came to the force; he was mostly daark’a. After being brought back to life by the daughter, she’d always felt a strong pulling to the light. Even when suffering the most, Morai kept her light; Ashla. And their daughter, their daughter was born of light and dark. One side would never be enough for her. She was grriva. Balance. 

          But the word Ashla, it had a deeper meaning than just light. It was also a name for the lightside of the force, for goodness; a blessing. 

          On Shili, to bless someone with Ashla was to bless them with prosperity, goodwill, safety and hope no matter where they wander or how tough their journey. Their destiny wasn’t light or dark, their destiny was Ashla. Anakin wasn’t the chosen one, Ashla was. He was to bring balance to the force... 

          “Anakin!” she called breathlessly, practically falling into the air chamber, impatient for the doors to switch so she could go through. “Anakin, wake up!”

          “What is it? Are you okay?” He leapt to his feet and caught her in his arms. “Why are you so hot?”

          “Well thank you for noticing,” she teased, but then remembered why she’d come running in here.

          He gave her a confused look and for no good reason, she laughed. “Ahsoka?” he asked nervously, bringing his metal fingers up to her face. “What’s going on? Why are you flushed and breathless? Is everything alright?” He pulled her closer as though he could protect her from everything, and she melted into the sensation she’d missed every day for fourteen years. She would never understand how he could be full of fear himself, but always manage to make her feel safe and okay.

          “It’s Ashla,” she said. He immediately released her and reached for his suit, but she set her hand on his arm. “No, she’s fine, she’s sleeping.”

          “But...”

          “I meant, Ashla is the answer.”

          “The answer to what?” He set the suit part back down and looked her over, clearly perplexed. 

          “You said that you can’t return to the light, but despite being a Sith, there’s still light in you.” She set her hand on his chest and smiled to herself as she thought about the way her light had held the broken leaf together. “I can’t turn completely dark, but I’ve crossed the line, Anakin. I’ve strayed from the Jedi teachings; I’ve turned blind to things I never would have before. Protecting Ashla and myself, for years it became all that mattered. And sometimes that meant sacrificing others to protect ourselves. I live with that guilt.” She blinked up at him. “But still, I make those choices.”

          “Ahsoka...” he whispered, in a tone clearly meant to soothe her. “The force doesn’t keep score. It’s not like our games. You check one too many marks on one side, it’s all over. That’s not how it works.”

          “I know.” She bit her lip and winced. Would she never learn about her hunter teeth? “My point is, you became a Sith but you still carry light. I was a Jedi, but I carry my own darkness. Ashla is born of us both.” 

          He studied her for a few minutes, and she was starting to believe he had no idea what she was getting at. “The Chosen One is supposed to bring balance to the force...” he whispered finally. 

          “I’ve taught her the light side,” she said thoughtfully.

          “Now I have to teach her the dark side,” he finished. “And that will teach her balance. So that she can bring balance to the force itself?” He sighed and sat back down on the furs. “Ahsoka, I don’t want to put that weight on her shoulders, I lived with it for far too long. It may have been the very thing that destroyed me.” He looked up at her and she stepped between his legs. 

          “It’s not her destiny to save the galaxy, Anakin. It’s ours. If we teach her balance, we prove to the rest of them that balance is possible. Light isn’t strong enough to beat the Emperor alone. Neither is darkness, you said so yourself. The only thing that can stop him is both. Remember what the elder said? ‘Dark and light, always at war; forgetting they are kin.’ Light and dark have to stop fighting each other long enough to work together. Do you remember our week on Shili?” she asked.

          “Of course, how could I forget it?” he murmured. “It changed a great many things between us.”

          “Do you remember how scared I was about going home? About how little I felt like I belonged there? How little I knew about myself, about everything?”

          “Yes.” He took her hands in his and rubbed them.

          “Long before I became your padawan, I felt drawn to you. I assumed I was pulled by the same promise as everyone else; that you were the Chosen One. I thought I was enamored by the appeal, by your skills, by what all of that meant-”

          “Trust me, there was no appeal to that,” he interrupted, sitting back and dropping her hands.

          “You only felt the responsibility. Everyone else felt the potential. Everyone else knew something big was about to happen, something that wasn’t tangible, but you could feel around you at every turn. No matter what your feelings about the prophecy, it was like an electric buzz, running through the temple as though the force itself was waiting in anticipation,” she continued, running her fingers down the side of his face. “I always assumed my need to be near you stemmed from that.”

          He blinked up at her and she smiled at him. “You don’t think that anymore?”

          She shook her head. “No. When we went to Shili for the rite of passage, while we traversed the landscape to return to my village, while we were distracted by all the various rituals and traditions, something nagged at me in the back of my mind.”

          “What?” he asked, sitting forward curiously.

          “What are the odds that master Plo would find me? What are the odds that he’d find me at the exact right age, be at the exact right place? What had drawn him to Shili? How had he found my village? How had he known?”

          “The force-”

          “Works in mysterious ways, I know,” she laughed softly. “But the fact that I came to the temple the same year as you albeit, much younger. The fact that I was drawn to you from the very first time I saw you. The fact that for no good reason that I can come up with, I was assigned to you five years before padawans are normally chosen. The fact that you changed my entire life from the first moment you agreed to train me. The fact that colliding with you changed the course of my every decision…” She studied him for a moment while he mulled over the stuff that she’d said. “Do you remember what my father said? How they talked about my call to wander, how they _knew_  I was meant for something more, that someone out there needed me?”

          “I always thought that was amazing,” he whispered. “That they could be so accepting of that.”

          “Don’t you get it?” she persisted, bringing both hands to his face and gently tipping it back so he had to look at her again. “None of it was an accident. The force brought me to you. No matter what the prophecy said about the Chosen One, no matter what destiny had in store, we were meant to collide. Every single thing we went through, all of it; good and bad, it all led to this.”

          “But-”

          “The Chosen one was supposed to bring balance to the force, but maybe not alone. My mother kept the leaves from the vision cave,” she said. “When I touched yours again, I felt like I was being burned. I can’t imagine how much all of this must have hurt.” She paused to kiss him deeply, then she kissed a few of his scars and ran her hands across the connections between his skin and the mechanical limbs. “I don’t know why it had to happen this way. And maybe I’ll never understand that. But I felt something else in your leaf, Anakin.” She looked back at his face. “I felt me.”

          “I hurt you,” he breathed. “I hurt you so bad. I singed your leaf. I corrupted you.”

          She shook her head again. “I reached for you, Anakin. I tried to share your pain. I took a piece of it, your darkness. So that you could have my light.” She traced her fingers down his cheek, overwhelmed with emotion. “From the very beginning, I think I always knew. I think I was drawn to you because I knew you’d need me. Master Yoda must have believed the same thing. Maybe life didn’t play out how we expected. Maybe nothing happened like we wanted, but for better or worse, we carry a piece of each other. Together we can stop him. Together, we will fulfill the prophecy.”

          “Together.” He pulled her to her feet with him and kissed her deeply. “Look what it cost you,” he said sadly.

          “I used to think that way too, but when I told my mother what happened, when I told her about the vision cave, she told me I was born for this. For so many years I thought you’d burned me. Maybe some part of me resented it. But I understand now, I chose this path long before I knew I could. It wasn’t something or someone out there that called me to wander, Anakin. I called for them. That’s why Master Plo found me, that’s how I ended up at the temple the same year as you. That’s why Master Yoda assigned me to you. No matter what the Jedi taught about attachments, sometimes two people are meant to collide. Sometimes it doesn’t always make sense why, or how. Sometimes the pain of the collision blinds us to its purpose.” She kissed him gently on the lips. “What if our collision knocked us both off the paths we thought we were supposed to walk? What if that was exactly why we needed to collide?”

          “Well, I can’t say for sure what would have happened without it, but I imagine my life would have ended up a hell of a lot worse without you.”


	11. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates lately, I've been very busy and struggling with a lot of personal problems. I also hadn't felt very motivated to write. But hopefully things are starting to get back to normal soon. Thank you for your patience!

          “My lord,” Vaneé hurried into the throne room and he looked up from where he’d been teaching Ashla the lightsaber forms. “There’s a messenger here from the Emperor. He says he’s to deliver it to you personally.”

          “Very well,” he replied, dismissing him. “Wait here.” He put his hand on Ashla’s shoulder and nodded to Ahsoka who had been pacing around watching them practice. 

          He felt a pang of guilt. If this isolation punishment was horrible for him, it was a hundred times worse for Ahsoka. No matter how much of her nature she’d overcome to be a Jedi, at the core she was still a hunter. She needed wide open spaces; she needed a planet that wasn’t dead. She needed anything but being stranded in an empty fortress on a lava world. Sometimes she was worse than a caged animal and her restlessness had been steadily increasing with each passing day. To the point that even he was struggling to keep up with her. 

          He headed towards the entrance, wondering what kind of delivery the Emperor had sent. He’d heard no word that he was sending a shipment, which was usually a bare minimum of supplies for vitapaste, occasionally spare suit parts, some medical supplies and Sith artifacts. 

          It had been three weeks since Ahsoka and Ashla had moved in. This place almost felt like it could be a home now. They spent a lot of their time training Ashla, but he’d wanted to start slow, with defense and forms and meditation before they did anything to provoke her power. But he also wanted to bond with her some before they went that far, and things had been mostly good but sometimes rocky. As eager as she seemed to want a relationship with him, she was twitchy and hesitant. She liked to talk a lot, but he also felt she rarely shared the deeper stuff. 

          Standing outside the ship that had landed was one lone stormtrooper and next to him was a large crate. It was a little bit unusual that there was only one, but he’d had the proper clearance codes to get through, so he wasn’t too worried. 

          He’d talked to the Emperor multiple times in the past few weeks and there was no indication he knew about Ahsoka being here. Which meant that Ashla had been right, Vaneé hadn’t told his master. It was a surprise to him, of course. How could a non-force user be so deceptive in front of someone as powerful as Sidious? As it was, he and Ahsoka had been practicing each night to help him not give anything away to his master. He’d been worried that Sidious would find out because he struggled to control his emotions. But with Ahsoka’s patience, he’d learned an effective mind shielding technique that allowed him to keep any information or emotions regarding their presence here, locked away when in front of the Emperor.

          “What is it?” he asked the trooper, finally stepping up in front of him. “I was not expecting a new shipment.”

          Before the stormtrooper could answer, a flash of color went past him, blocking out the bright white of the uniform armor. He stared in surprise at Ashla, who now held the man in a tight hug. The trooper reached up and touched her face gently and he was even more confused.

          “It’s good to see you well, lil’un,” the trooper said softly, resting his hand on her shoulder when she finally let go.

          He stared at her a moment, glanced over his shoulder at Ahsoka who wasn’t far behind, and then looked back at the stormtrooper. “Rex?” He felt a rush of emotion course through him.

          Ashla stepped back as the trooper straightened and saluted him. “I’m glad you’re still alive, sir,” his friend said. “It’s been a long time.”

          “Hello, Rexy,” Ahsoka said, coming up beside him. “How are you doing?”

          “Surviving,” he replied. “I can’t stay long, but we intercepted a delivery from the Emperor here. From the list of contents, it wouldn't have been pretty. Which means the Emperor knows you’re here. The original package has been rerouted to our base for inspection and possibly disposal. I took the liberty of swapping it out for a few things you might need. Also, I don’t like not being able to contact you, so there’s equipment in here that should bypass any listening Imperials.” He pointed up at the sky to indicate Tarkin’s fleet.”

          “Thank you, my friend,” Ahsoka said with genuine affection. 

          “Listen,” Rex glanced around. “I know you want to be here, and I respect your choice, but if the Emperor knows about you, I doubt this will be the only trap he sets. You need to be thinking about a way out.”

          “We’re not leaving,” she said as though that was the end of the discussion.

          “Ahsoka... if Sidious knows you and Ashla are here,” he started. “It’s too dangerous to stay. It means Vaneé told him. You and Ashla should go with Rex.”

          “But he promised he wouldn’t,” Ashla cut in.

          “He is loyal to Sidious. There’s no reason for him to not tell him, Ashla. I’m sorry, I know you wanted to believe in him, but anyone that works for the Emperor can’t be trusted.”

          “Does that include you?” she spat back at him and he stared at her in surprise. “How do we know you didn’t tell him?” She turned and ran back towards the fortress and disappeared back through the entry door. 

          “As you can see, Rex, things are going well,” he muttered more to himself than either him or Ahsoka. Though he was certain both of them had heard it. He’d seen that Ahsoka had turned to watch her go but had otherwise not reacted at all to Ashla’s outburst. 

          She turned and looked back at him and it dawned on him that she was expecting him to go deal with their daughter. He almost whined about it, but she gave him a look and he reluctantly turned and trudged after her. What the kriff was he supposed to say to her after that anyways?

          He’d spoken only truth. No, he hadn’t told Sidious they were here, not in words anyways. But as he tried to track her down, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe  _he_  had been the leak. But if so, why hadn’t Sidious come himself? What game was he playing, sneaking tricks or traps here? Was Vaneé in on it, or had like Ashla believed, he’d kept his promise?

          He found her in her room, her face down on the bed. She didn’t appear to be crying, but he could feel her energy as though she had been.

          “I’m sorry,” he whispered, not sure what else to say. Ahsoka was so much better at relating to their daughter, but he’d been trying to. As much as he loved her already, he felt awkward around her. Never sure what to say or do that didn’t involve training her. At first Ahsoka had bailed him out, smoothing things between them, but in the last few days it had shifted to her just expecting him to learn how or handle whatever the situation entailed. It was only fair, he supposed. But he still didn’t know how to really form that bond that she had with her mother.

          She was old enough to have her own life and experiences that didn’t include him and now it often felt as though he was either having to force his way in or she had to push things aside to let him in. And though she always seemed to want to, he got the impression occasionally that she somewhat resented having to push aside the dream of her ideal father to make room for the reality of who her father really was. Though she’d never specifically said it, he’d caught the way she looked at him sometimes, like she would forever be disappointed he wasn’t what she’d always imagined he was. And even though it was most certainly his own fault he’d ended up here, like this, he kind of blamed Ahsoka for instilling this perfect vision of him in her head that clashed with who he really was. How could he live up to that?

          She didn’t look up or acknowledge him right away and admittedly he was half tempted to just leave her alone for awhile before trying again. He stood there, unsure how to even start this. He was never good at this. Back when he’d been a Jedi, Ahsoka had made it easy on him. In the beginning of their relationship, there’d been some rocky times when it came to discipline or communication, but it hadn’t taken them too long in the grand scheme of things to figure out how to talk to each other.

          Finally tired of standing there feeling stupid, he sat down on the edge of her bed and stared at the crates that had been converted into shelves. “I know you wanted to believe in him, but the Emperor is very powerful, even if he’d tried to keep his word about not telling, I’m sure Sidious would have found out soon enough. He has…  _ways_ … of getting information out of people,” he said, trying to fill the silence.

          “Do you think it’s possible Vaneé didn’t tell him?” she asked hopefully.

          “I think it’s possible he didn’t  _mean_  to tell him…” he said carefully. “But Ashla-“

          “Don’t say it,” she interrupted.

          “Say what?” he asked in confusion.

          “I know what you want to say, but please don’t.” He glanced over his shoulder and saw that she’d rolled so her back was to him, facing the wall. He still wasn’t sure what she was so convinced he was going to say because he hadn’t even been sure what he was going to say. It probably would have been some stupid platitude from back in the day or something about the current state of things, that now that he thought about it probably would have just started an even bigger argument. 

          “I used to think I knew the way the world worked,” he said finally. “I used to be so sure about everything. When the Jedi found me and took me back to the temple... their beliefs were so different from my mothers, from my own. At first, I fought them at every turn, convinced they just didn’t understand. But somewhere along the way, I stopped fighting them. I gave up. Maybe I really didn’t know. When the war started, I came to depend on their teachings as things got murkier and harder to understand. Everyday it became more difficult to really know what was right or which way to go.” 

          He heard Ashla roll over and prop herself up to listen to him. He wasn’t sure what his point was telling her any of this, but he had this sudden need to release it. 

          “When your mother came along, she turned everything upside down. Though raised as a Jedi for far longer than me, she had a very different way she saw the world. And through her eyes, I started to find my way again. She reminded me about the importance of love. And though the Jedi forbade attachments, she was proof they could exist without destroying yourself. I came to depend on her so heavily, I trusted her direction and her guidance, even more so than I trusted the council. She was everything I wanted to be but had forgotten how. The difference was, she was free. I was so entangled in my need to please that I couldn’t completely breakaway. I was bolder with her by my side, but never as fearless as she was. When my long time friend, the Chancellor, told me she’d been killed on Mandalore... I had no reason not to believe him. Everything that followed had happened so fast, I’m not even sure I remember all of it. What I do remember though, was the emptiness that had pumped through me, and the fear. I’d so completely trusted her guidance, I had no idea who I was or where to go when I lost her. So I clung to the only person I thought I had left, not realizing the mistake I was making by following him. I guess my point is, Ashla, that even the people you think you know can deceive you. But more importantly, you have to find inside yourself who you are and where to go. It’s not that you can’t trust others, or believe in them, but if you always rely on them and not yourself, they  _will_  let you down.”

          He weaved his fingers together and dropped them in his lap with a sigh. He wasn’t sure if anything he said made sense, and he doubted it made her feel better. Especially since it only succeeded in making himself feel worse.

          “Did my mom ever let you down?” she whispered finally. 

          “No,” he replied. He couldn’t think of a single time, even back in the beginning when they didn’t always see eye to eye. Never had she disappointed him or not been there; except of course, when he’d been told she was dead. In some ways he’d felt hatred at her for leaving him, for dying on him. He knew it wasn’t her fault but he’d needed someone to blame. Now that he knew she’d survived, now that she was here, any hatred or bitterness or resentment towards her that he’d ever felt before or after her ‘death’ had completely faded. 

          Ashla stood up and he looked up at her. She seemed momentarily frozen in indecision but then finally she shook her head. “I need to go talk to Vaneé,” she said after awhile and disappeared, leaving him still staring at the shelves. 

          He rose and moved over to them, scanning the contents more carefully than he had before. He tried to ignore the doll of him this time as his eyes slid to a leather notebook tied together. He picked it up and unwound it. The very first thing he saw was a letter that Ashla had written, or at least he assumed it was her handwriting since it didn’t look like Ahsoka’s. It was addressed to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to read it and flipped through the pages. 

          A piece of thin animal hide fell out of the notebook and he bent down to pick it up, staring at it in surprise. He ran his glove down the fading sketch of Ahsoka. The one he’d drawn years ago, with Shili flowers around her head like a crown. A tear slid down his cheek as he remembered the way she’d looked that day; so excited, so eager, so determined. The light had shone out of her as though she were brighter than the sun. Every time she was next to him, he’d felt warm and golden. He’d done his best to capture all of that in a quick sketch, but he’d hardly scratched the surface of what made her shine.

          “Do you know how hard it was to convince my parents to part with that?” Ahsoka asked and he glanced up to see her leaning against the door frame. “They didn’t understand why I needed it more than them. Do you remember drawing it?”

          “Yes.” He ran his gloved fingers over the faded picture in his hand again.

          “At first I wondered why I needed a picture of myself so badly,” she murmured. “But then I realized it wasn’t the subject that mattered to me. It was the fact that  _you_  had drawn it. When I saw it hanging on their wall, I nearly cried. It was something physical, something you’d made, something I could touch.” She sounded so sad, it broke his heart.

          “I never gave you what you asked for.” The memory of the way she’d begged for a drawing of him floated through his head. How badly she’d needed it and how unwilling he’d been to give it to her. He hadn’t wanted to disappoint her, he really hadn’t, but all he’d cared about at the time was his own insecurities, his inability to see himself the way she’d seen him. Now hearing her say that about the drawing, how badly she’d needed something to hold onto that he’d made, something that still connected them in some way, no matter how small... it made him feel horrible that he’d never given it to her. 

          He set the drawing back down and absentmindedly played with the left wrist of his mechanical hand. The hand he’d kept their wedding leather tied around for so long. He’d had that, she’d had nothing. He’d also had her lightsabers. He picked up the doll that she’d made of him for Ashla.

          “I’m so sorry, Ahsoka,” he whispered finally. He put the doll back down and looked up at her sadly.

          She straightened and chewed on her lip for a moment and then finally she shook her head and looked down at the floor. “The past is the past, Anakin. There’s no changing it now.” She turned and disappeared down the hallway and he stared after her feeling a fresh rush of pain. He was glad they were both here, but it hurt. It hurt so bad, maybe even worse than before he’d learned she was still alive or that they had a child. No matter what she said, no matter how forgiving she seemed, it only felt like he’d disappointed her. And somehow, he was absolutely certain that feeling would never fade. How had he lost himself so completely? How had he fallen so far? How had he given up so easily?

          Losing her had been the worst feeling in the world, second only to the loss of his mother, but was that really the reason he’d fallen? Was that why he’d stopped caring about everything else? Or like she’d said; had all of this been predestined? Had he been meant to fall? The Emperor certainly had seemed convinced the darkness was his destiny. Though he hadn’t felt the same, he’d gone along with him. He hadn’t fought his plans. He hadn’t tried to stop him. He hadn’t resisted even a little. Maybe Ahsoka had been right, maybe he hadn’t been meant to be a Jedi. Maybe that was the whole point of the prophecy.

          He stopped in front of the mirror Ashla had leaning against the wall by the door. He stared at the mask for a long time. How could either of them look at this and love him? How could either of them care? He had the sudden urge to rip the whole thing off himself but managed to remind himself that was a death sentence. Though to be perfectly honest, death didn’t sound so bad right now.

          He felt a hand on his arm, which surprised him because he shouldn’t have felt anything there. He followed the arm up to Ashla’s face. She was looking up at him in a way that reminded him so much of Ahsoka he nearly fell to tears right there. But she didn’t say anything, she just squeezed his arm and then closed her eyes. He didn’t move as he felt the force change around them, he felt her reach in like she was trying to pry information from him, and his first instinct was to close it down. Then he remembered if he ever wanted to have a bond with his daughter, he’d have to let her in sooner or later.

          It took a few minutes to let go of the walls he’d held onto for so long and finally she slipped in. He didn’t know exactly what she was searching for and that made him even more nervous. He watched her face while she searched. Occasionally she’d wince, a couple times she squeezed his arm harder. Then to his surprise, she smiled.

          She opened her eyes and let go of his arm and he studied her curiously, wondering what she was thinking and what she’d seen. “This corruption,” she whispered and then cleared her voice that had sounded somewhat hoarse. “It’s only skin deep.” She shifted as though she was afraid of him and wanted to put some distance between them without being obvious. “The dark side… I don’t know much about it. Mom says it was the opposite of the Jedi teachings; selfish, power-hungry, violent. I feel the violence in you, I feel the power, but I also feel what led you down this path and it wasn’t the same motivations as the Emperor.”

          “How could you know that?” he asked finally, bristling a little that she could read him in the force in a matter of minutes and think she had him figured out.

          “Whenever I asked mom about you, do you know what she said?” He shook his head. “She said you were a black hole, sucking everything towards you, impossible to escape.”

          “That sounds great,” he muttered and turned his back on her, walking towards the window and pulling the curtains apart to stare at the lava world around them.

          “You don’t know, do you?” Ashla said suddenly.

          “Know what?” he said in frustration.

          She stepped up next to him, scooting in-between him and the window so he had to look at her instead. “She never said it like it was a bad thing,” she whispered. “Whenever she talked about you, there was pain, because of how much she missed you. But there was more to it. Behind the pain, there was only love. Seeing you like this, it didn’t change that, if anything- I think she loves you more. Either that or I’m now getting to see what she always talked about. But you don’t know how much people love you, do you? You don’t see it as love…” she trailed off and then moved over to her bed and sat down. She played with her hands for a moment and then looked back at him. “That’s why I said the corruption was only skin-deep. A crusty wall you built around your heart. For whatever reason, you didn’t believe that people loved you even though they all did. You locked the gate and threw away the key. But you made it one-sided, you let the love out, but never back in. If you want to know how we really feel about you, you have to open the gate.”

          He watched her stand up and leave the room and he stared at the door for awhile and then the floor. Then he moved back in front of the mirror and stared at the monstrous reflection of the sharp features of the helmet. The whole suit was designed to intimidate, to invoke fear. There was nothing soft about it.

                He picked up her mirror and took it into the air chamber where he set it down opposite of the furs and sat down, staring at it. When had he ever looked at his reflection and saw something better than what he was staring at right now? The mask and suit, though necessary for survival, was now only a physical manifestation of a barrier that had always been between him and others. It was a weird realization that he’d been more open and loving as a slave than he’d ever been as a Jedi or since. Not even Padmé had broken down that wall and he’d once believed she was the only one he’d ever want out of life. 

          But then there was Ahsoka, someone he’d never expected or imagined would appear, had barreled into his life like a storm. She’d somehow balanced herself between the cold indifferent teachings of the Jedi and true compassion and love for the people around her. She’d been hurt dozens of times and it never slowed her down. She’d been broken, she’d suffered, she had scars, but it had never turned her dark. In fact, she’d been the only person that had ever made him forget he’d had these walls around his heart. 

          When he’d lost her, not only had the walls come right back, they’d grown exponentially. Out of fear of hurting yet again, he’d made the fortress around his heart nearly as impenetrable as the fortress he lived in now. It made sense at the time, but now he wondered if he’d done it for fear of letting others in, or rather out of fear of letting himself out. Ashla’s words...  _you have to open the gate..._  

          He reached up and took his helmet off, staring at his broken body and hating everything he saw. Maybe once he’d been good looking, maybe once he’d believed he was desirable. Maybe once he’d even believed that people would love him. But if they had, he’d never noticed. Just like his daughter had said. Why had he never seen it as love? Why had he never truly believed people could love him? For as much as he’d desired it, he’d never seen it. Even now, he’d convinced himself that Ahsoka and Ashla weren’t here out of love. He was convinced that the tiniest mistake would make them leave again. Even hearing Ahsoka tell Rex they weren’t leaving still didn’t feel like love. It was a duty, it was loneliness, it was anything but love... that was the way his brain worked. So Sidious’ teachings about the dark side, about love being a weakness, it had resonated with him. It had made sense and maybe that was the true reason he’d fallen. 

          For as much as he’d craved love, he’d never found it. Never seen it, never even believed in it. So after losing what he’d loved, he’d stopped trying to love. No one had ever given it back to him, not the way he expected it anyways.  _You don’t know, do you?_  

          Ashla was right, he didn’t know. He didn’t know anything. He thought about the way Ahsoka had talked about the leaves, the vision they’d had on Shili. For the first time, he closed his eyes and let himself remember being in that cave, seeing what the force had shown him. Everything had been good. He’d seen her, he’d seen happiness, he’d heard a child, he’d felt light and good and hope and contentment. But then the vision had changed. But why?  _Why_ had it changed? 

          He squeezed his eyes shut trying to remember. He’d been drifting along in pure bliss, high on the feeling of warmth that had spread from Ahsoka and the possibility of their future together. But then... he’d thought about Padmé; thought about losing her. Fear had crashed in like an out of control train. Suddenly he’d heard crying, and felt pain and loss and darkness... so much darkness. After that all he remembered was Ahsoka’s face, a small light in the suffocating fear and nothingness. He’d seen his leaf burned to a crisp next to her glowing one. He’d seen that hers too had burned, from the fire that had swept through him. And in that moment he’d been sure that he’d bring her down, that he’d be responsible for destroying her. 

          But after he’d broken up with Padmé, after they’d finalized their divorce and he and Ahsoka had gotten closer and closer, the vision in that cave had been forgotten or at least buried deep inside himself. Though that fear of losing people had never gone away. Or the fear that he would hurt her that he’d be responsible for it... it had come true. When he’d heard about her death, he’d believed it was his fault. He’d felt like his choices had led to it. That he’d let her down, that even in death, she’d never forgive him. That was why he’d been so angry when she’d appeared in front of the bacta tank. He’d believed it was yet another vision of her there to torture him. That she’d follow him around and remind him constantly of the monster he’d become and the mistakes he’d made. 

          But this vision had never accused him of anything. This one had only been soft and loving. This one had carried her own sorrow, but never blamed him for it. This one had touched him tenderly, had kissed him like he was the only thing that mattered. And this one, this one was real.  _Seeing you like this? It only made her love you more._

          He could make up a million reasons why it wasn’t love before he could ever believe that she loved him. She could say the very words he craved and he’d still convince himself she didn’t mean it. He could know without a shadow of a doubt that Ahsoka would never say something like that unless she meant it and still he’d believe she was lying or that she couldn’t possibly know what those words meant.

          And that was probably the true reason he’d never drawn himself for her; he’d refused to believe she really wanted him. 

          And now, it was even harder to believe she could want him, want this. Yet here she was. He’d felt the truth in her words, he’d felt her  _need_  to stay. Not out of pity or duty or fear for her daughter. 

          He opened a compartment on the far side of his chamber and pulled out paper and a pencil. He pulled a crate close to the bed and hunched over. His hand hovered over the paper, frozen in the familiar rush of fear and hesitation. But then he gripped it harder and brought it down. It instantly snapped and he went to grab another. 

          By the time he’d finished, he’d gone through twelve pencils and dozens of sheets of paper. He fell back on the furs and rubbed his face, unsure how long he’d been drawing. As far as he was concerned, it was a perfect reflection of what he saw in the mirror, but that demon wasn’t what he’d wanted to give her. It would have to do though, since he’d exhausted his supply of utensils and paper. 

          He heard the outside door to the chamber open and a few minutes later Ahsoka was standing over the mess he’d made. He peeked through his fingers and saw her looking it over and he felt a rush of embarrassment and fear as she picked up the last one sitting on the crate. She didn’t say anything as she set it back down and left the air chamber. He was too exhausted to cry in disappointment that she’d reacted just about the way he’d expected her to. But then before he could throw things she was back, setting down a clean piece of paper and a new pencil. 

          She knelt down on the opposite side of the crate, between him and the mirror and looked at him expectantly. He hesitated but finally sat up and looked her over. She nodded to the blank piece of paper she’d brought from somewhere. He slid off the furs and knelt down across from her as she smiled reassuringly. He picked up the new pencil with his right hand and looked at her again with uncertainty. 

          She reached out and set her hand over his left one, squeezing gently and then she closed her eyes.

          The force shifted around them, the power of it took him by surprise for a moment before he relaxed into her familiar warmth. An image formed in his head, one that was familiar and yet at the same time completely unrecognizable. The next thing he knew he was scribbling away, doing his best to capture what he was seeing, what  _she_  was showing him. They probably sat that way for several hours as he fell deep into the process of drawing that once had been a way to meditate and relax. When he finally put the pencil down she picked up the drawing before he could really look at it. One would think he’d known what he actually drew but he didn’t always, not when he was that deep in meditation. He watched her face nervously as she studied it. 

          Then she looked over the picture and met his eyes. She didn’t smile and his heart raced away in his chest as he imagined all the negative things she’d say about it. But instead she turned the paper around so he could see what he’d drawn. He watched her face a few moments longer before looking at the drawing. 

          It was him, of course, but not the him he knew. He took it from her and looked at it closer. It was his face, his eyes, his chin, his body. Everything about it was a reflection of what he’d seen in a mirror but there was something different about it. Something he couldn’t quite articulate. It was from before the burns and scars, the way he’d looked as a Jedi, but this one was... happy. No not happy... content? Brave? Strong? He couldn’t quite put words to it. 

          He looked back up at her. “I don’t know who this is,” he said finally, feeling the familiar twist of fear and frustration.

          “It’s you,” she said softly.

          “I’ve never seen myself this way.”

          “Perhaps,” she whispered. “But it’s how the rest of us saw you.”

          “I can’t believe that,” he sighed.

          She reached forward and pulled the paper from him and set it down on the crate. Then she pointed to his eyes in the drawing. “Do you know that look? Do you know what it means?” He shook his head stubbornly.  “That’s because you saw it in everyone else, but never in yourself. Look at me.” He looked back at her face. “What do you see?”

          “Perfection,” he breathed, but she shook her head. 

          “You were always hardest on yourself. So critical, so unforgiving. When I looked at you, I never thought you were perfect. But I also never saw the failure you thought you were. I didn’t see the chosen one, I didn’t see someone larger than life. I saw a man that was broken and hurting and afraid. I saw someone who knew every life mattered and that pushed himself to rescue as many as he could. I saw someone that stood on principle, not just power. I saw someone that fought for love and life for all the right reasons. When I looked at you, I saw someone I wanted to be.”

          “Why would you want to be this?” he choked.

          She smiled softly and shook her head, looking down at her hands. “I didn’t fall in love with you because you were perfect, Anakin. Or because you were some idol. Maybe you being the chosen one is what captured my attention, but that was never what I loved about you. Do you know the moment I knew I’d follow you wherever you went? When I realized you were the man I truly loved?”

          He shook his head, afraid to speak. 

          She laughed. “It was the most random moment, I wish I could say it was some big profound, life changing moment, but it wasn’t.” He watched her take a deep breath and get lost in thought. He admired her eyes and the brilliant blue that could illuminate even the darkest rooms. She looked back at him, focusing again. “We’d just gotten back to the cruiser after a particularly rough mission. So many had died, so much lost. You were sitting in the hanger with your face in your hands. You thought everyone had left, you thought you were alone. I’d followed Rex and the others out but then I’d noticed you hadn’t followed and I went back to find you. My heart was broken from mourning. My head was still buzzing from fear and loss, grateful the few of us made it back at all. But then I saw you sitting there, I saw you cry...” she trailed off.

          “Why would you fall in love with that?” he asked in frustration.

          “Because it was in that moment, Anakin, that I finally understood who you were beneath the mask you wore.” He glanced at the helmet sitting on the floor near them and she shook her head. “You tried so hard to please everyone, you wore a mask long before you had to to survive. You never let anyone in. You carried yourself in a way that was meant to assure everyone you knew what you were doing. I get it, you were a general, you needed the people under you to be confident in your leadership. You couldn’t have them doubting everything. But when I saw you sitting there, with your face in your hands, crying for the people we lost... that was when I knew I’d follow you through any hell. That was when I really felt the swell of love that had been building inside me for years. That was when I knew I’d never stop loving you.”

          “But why?”

          “Because for the first time I saw  _all_  of you. The love poured off you in waves. When had I ever before seen a Jedi cry? Never. You know why? Because we weren’t allowed to show emotion, we weren’t allowed to cry, to mourn, to feel... Every other Jedi, every other soldier, everyone else would have told me that’s the reality of war, that people die, that the sacrifice is always worth it in the end. That we don’t have time to mourn, we don’t have time to question it, we just have to keep going. That was the day I understood why the force chose you. Because only someone that would cry over the loss of nameless clones that nobody else cared about, was someone that could love the world the way that was needed to save it. You weren’t made the chosen one because of your skills, Anakin. You were chosen because of your heart.” She picked up the drawing and held it in front of him again. “You were chosen because of your ability to love.”

          “Look where it got me,” he sighed. 

          “Love is dangerous, it’s true,” she said. “Sometimes it’s a weakness like both the Sith and the Jedi taught. Sometimes it pain and suffering. Sometimes... it can burn you from the inside out. It’s as volatile as a kyber crystal, as unpredictable and shocking as an electrical storm. Sometimes it’s a black hole that you pour everything into and never get anything back. But it’s also the most powerful force in the universe. It can move mountains, turn tides, win allies, give purpose, save lives, inspire a rebellion...”

          “Are you trying to tell me that even though I work for the Emperor, I’m also responsible for the people disrupting it?” he smirked. 

          “Everything I’ve done since Mandalore, I’ve done in your honor, Anakin. I fought for what you stood for, I tried to save the people I knew you’d never leave behind-”

          “And meanwhile I’ve been making things so much worse for everyone.” He got up and paced around. She did say anything and he finally turned around and looked at her. 

          “Why did you follow the Emperor?” she asked.

          “Because I didn’t have a choice.”

          “I know that’s not true,” she said. “Why did you follow him?”

          “Because I stopped caring...” 

          She shook her head again. “Why, Anakin? Why did you follow him?”

          He dropped his head and stared at the floor. “Because I thought he could end the war,” he admitted.

          “Because you believed he could save the galaxy and the people,” she filled in the blanks. 

          “I was wrong,” he sighed.

          “It doesn’t matter,” she said, standing up and coming over to him, taking his hands in hers. “You believed you could save people, you believed you could help them. You didn’t become a Sith for power, Anakin. Or because you were evil or even destined to turn. You were trying to love them and at the time, you thought that was how you had to do it.” She picked up the drawing again. “When we love like that, sometimes we can be blind to the truth. Sometimes we don’t always get it right. Sometimes we do things that don’t always make sense or that we know are wrong. The Jedi didn’t forbid love because it was a path to the dark side, they forbade it because of the blindness it creates.” She picked up the other drawing and held them both up in front of him. “You’re not a monster, Anakin. No matter what the Emperor wanted you to believe.” She crumpled up the drawing he’d done before she came in the room. “You’re just a man that loved the world so much, he didn’t always know how to help them. You’re a man that loved so much he sacrificed everything to love more. You’re a man that didn’t always make the right choice but made them all for the right reasons. And maybe you’ve been lost, and suffering and hopeless and alone. But you’re not a monster. You’ve never been a monster. You taught me how to love, and even though I’ve suffered for it, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” She pointed to the picture of himself that she’d helped him draw. “This, right here, this is who I see when I look at you. This is who you really are. This is everything you still are. And I love you so so  _so_  much. The scars you wear or the burdens you carry won’t ever change that.”


End file.
